


A Flower's Resilience

by NightlySnow



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, M/M, Omega Verse, omega - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 59,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2211429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightlySnow/pseuds/NightlySnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the strict hierarchical society of Alphas and Omegas, it is impossible for Omegas to not bow to the wills of their Alphas. Eliza, however, goes against this rule. Will Gilbert, an Alpha raised by traditional parents, be able to accept his rebellious mate? Or will their relationship inevitably fracture? Omegaverse, Mpreg, PruHun, Spamano, Franada, DenNor, UKUS will be featured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Flower's Resilience

_ "But he who dares not grasp the thorn Should never crave the rose."  _

_ **― Anne Brontë** _

Gilbert had always been a rather cocky alpha. He wouldn't admit it, but every single one of his friends would agree without a moment's hesitation. Then again, when you go around crowing about how awesome you are, there really isn't much room to claim humility. Perhaps this arrogance was what got him into the situation in the first place.

It had been a regular day at his high school, the start of his junior year to be precise. Omegas and Alphas had been filtered into separate classes, though few omegas actually showed at school anymore anyway. This was either because they'd decided that their studies weren't important enough to pursue, seeing as they were just going to be child-bearers for their alphas, or because they were already pregnant. That being said, there were always the omegas that made it their business to do well in high school, even though few colleges were made available to them, seeing as their natures were not to pursue an academic, or even a successful career.

Gilbert was raised on the beliefs that an Omega didn't belong in college. They could graduate high school, but then they should settle down immediately afterwards, to have children and please their alphas; to raise families and be the homebodies.

This was a conviction that had been hammered into him ever since he had been made aware of his own status as an Alpha. It was then that he was taught how to properly care for an Omega, and the basics. He was taught how an alpha should act, what was expected of him or her, and so on and so forth.

It was tedious, to learn the ways of Alphas, but he knew that he should count himself lucky. He was his father's first child, and the man was rather obviously puffed with pride at having had an alpha as his first son. Not that that was mentioned to many other men and women. Their family was a reserved one, quiet in their manners and they all had blond hair and blue eyes, except for Gilbert.

A little boy had been born not long after Gil, but he hadn't survived. He'd been an Alpha as well, but no one would tell Gil what had become of him, or even his name. He hadn't been given one, as that was generally left to the Alpha to name his or her Alpha children, but his father had never really gotten around to it, having been out on some important business trip at the time of his second son's birth. So his mother had done all she could to contact her mate, but he wasn't answering. She'd eventually given up in despair and resigned herself to calling her little son _Kleine_ , or little one. Father hadn't made it back in time to name his son before the boy's untimely demise. Alfher, his father, was rather upset at this turn of events, and Gilbert didn't see his mother or his father for some time after that. The death affected the family for as many weeks as it took for his mother, named Amelina, to conceive again, and it still haunted them to this day.

This third time around, his father was there for the entire process, from gestation to birth, and was quick to name the next Alpha child born into their family. The youngest boy, with hair cornflower yellow and eyes a piercing blue, was called Ludwig. He took after Alfher in almost every way, and he had a little of his mother in his quiet, absorbing manner. Ludwig could rarely be taken by surprise, and he showed a surprising amount of care for those that he held close to him.

Gilbert was the black sheep of the family, with his loud, boisterous, and oftentimes rude personality. He had ice white hair, and blood red eyes. Many, at first, thought he was an abomination, something to be hidden from the world. But his father refused to accept such a judgement, and he quickly ensured that Gilbert would be able to defend himself against anyone who tried to harm him, teaching the boy how to handle weapons as soon as his basic motor skills developed and he could use his hands for something other than teething; fighting.

Amelina would always watch in concern, her own lighter yellow locks framing her thin, delicate face. She was the perfect omega, quiet, demure, and unobtrusive. She never asked questions, and was always ready to help her family of alphas. Gilbert and Ludwig could never have asked for a better mother.

So when Gilbert arrived at school his junior year, he had already established himself as a relatively powerful alpha. People respected him, some even revered him, and even a tiny few feared him. Ludwig resented him, really, for scaring the Italian omega, Feliciano Vargas.

Gilbert's best friends were a Frenchman and a Spaniard. They were a motley bunch, but they were all alphas, and all equally mischievous.

Francis Bonnefoy, with his shoulder-length blond hair and gleaming sapphire eyes, was probably the most levelheaded of the group. Those eyes could enchant any poor omega or beta into a relationship that would more often than not last a total of one hour. Francis had a quite a bit of a reputation, and many parents were sure to keep their omega children far from his wandering eyes and equally roaming hands.

Antonio Carriedo had jade green eyes, and hair the color of chocolate, with skin a shade darker than Francis's. He was of a cheerful disposition, always laughing and jesting, and taking any insults that were poked his way with a breezy wave of his hand. But, despite Antonio's unphasable demeanor, Gilbert knew better. He was one of only two people who'd managed to piss the Spaniard off, and he would never make that mistake twice. He'd done something quite stupid in making fun of a certain Lovino Vargas, and Antonio had made sure that he had a shattered arm and a couple of broken ribs to keep him from trying to laugh at the indignant Italian ever again.

Despite the trio's differences, they always got on surprisingly well. Their personalities balanced out; Gilbert's craziness, Antonio's generally easy-going personality, and Francis's rather logical and calculating one, even if the Frenchman's calculations weren't always for the greater good of whichever omega or beta he was preying on that day.

It was Francis who first noticed her, the new girl, but it was Gilbert who recognized her.

It was Elizaveta, the Hungarian girl he used to know rather well when he was younger until her parents had decided that she had had enough interaction with an alpha and moved to a different part of the school district. She was an omega, after all, and was not acting like it.

That had been the last he'd seen of the fierce girl.

Needless to say, she had certainly changed, judging from the waterfall of shining brown hair that glossed down her back, the cluster of pink flowers resting in the alley that her ear made between her head and its shell. Those familiar green eyes seemed to catch the light at every angle, each ray dancing in their depths and capturing Gilbert's own red eyes in their revelry. That same green was reflected in the button-down shirt she wore, something made of a light fabric that seemed to just float over her shoulders and torso, and was tucked enough into her skirt to not be too tight against her body. Her skirt was long, brushing down to her ankles, as all skirts or pants worn by omegas should be. It was midnight black, and it seemed to settle nicely on her hips before sliding down the rest of her body, not sticking, but twisting about her with every turn or movement she made, outlining the new curves that his childhood friend had developed. It was mesmerizing to watch, and he barely noticed the black flats she wore to match the skirt.

It was Francis's obnoxious chuckling that had him snapping out of this assessment of his childhood friend. Forehead furrowing in annoyance, he growled over at the grinning blond, who winked all too knowingly at him.

"Somebody's been struck by cupid's arrow, hm?" asked his friend, ever the dramatic one, slinging an arm around his shoulder and leaning his head in close next to Gilbert's. "Quite forgivable, one can hardly blame you. She certainly is a beautiful omega," he purred, "une belle fille."

For some reason, Francis's assessment of Elizaveta had Gilbert shrugging his friend's arm off of his shoulders and glaring daggers at him. "Don't touch her," he found himself warning the other man, before gathering his stuff and heading off to his first class of the day. He was shaken, and obviously had no clue what to do about this newest of situations. One thing was for sure, Elizaveta was going to be a catch, and he had to make sure that he was the one to get her.

Once he'd entered the classroom, he had none other than the oh-so-pleasant Arthur Kirkland to deal with. The man's bushy eyebrows furrowed the minute he made eye contact with the other alpha and he managed a rather vicious smile in the white-haired man's direction. Unfortunately for Gilbert, Arthur's eyes were almost the same hue as Elizaveta's; a striking, commanding green.

Clearing his throat, Gilbert managed an equally feral smile back at Arthur before taking his normal seat next to Antonio. The Spaniard was prattling off about Lovino and how cute the cranky, ineffable Italian was. Gilbert tuned him out relatively easily, not really being in the mood to hear about the omega that Antonio was obsessed with. His own mind was jumping from topic to topic, from Elizaveta's reappearance in his life, to Arthur's odd behavior this morning, to the threat of Francis's conniving ways looming over his concerns for Elizaveta.

The bell rang, Francis wheeled in with a stain of lipstick pressing like a flower petal against his lips, and the class began. The teacher, who was a graying man with a rather boring, toneless voice began to teach the class, pointing to the whiteboard with a stick. It seemed that the lesson of the day would be about businesses, and how to create and maintain your own. Gilbert chose to tune out for that, not considering it terribly important to know something that should come naturally for most Alphas.

His attention focused on Arthur in that moment, having exhausted most of his thoughts on Elizaveta to an extent that it pained him to continue thinking about her. He noticed the stiff set to Arthur's shoulders, the continuous tapping of his pencil on the wooden desk that he sat at. How odd, to have the normal collected, calm, stoic Arthur so... well, agitated.

Gilbert pondered what could be the cause of the Brit's antsiness only to come to the realization that Alfred had not showed up to school that morning. A slow smirk spread across his face, his red eyes gleaming with a dangerous light, like the red siren on a police car. Alfred must be in heat, then. What a shame, poor Arthur, ever the protective alpha was unable to stay with the omega that he was so obviously interested, but forbidden to take as his mate until both of them graduated high school.

It was an odd rule for parents to place, especially in this day and age of omegas that were really only good for raising babies, but each family had its own traditions. As it was, Alfred's family had two omegas, twins, and they were intent on making sure that both of their boys had a proper education in case they needed to make a life of their own. Another interesting fact concerning that family was that they kept their children at different schools. Gilbert and his friends had yet to meet Alfred's younger twin brother, Matthew. He knew Francis was more than a little curious-the Frenchman had been interested in Alfred at first before being effectively chased away by Arthur.

And so the day passed, with Gilbert going from class to class, his mind flitting from student to student and their relationships. He knew it was all just a distraction, anything to keep his mind off of the alluring Elizaveta Héderváry. Incidentally, he did update himself on all of the ongoing lives of almost every student of the school. The Danish boy named Mathias was rather resiliently lavishing attention on a very reluctant Norwegian named Lukas. It was cute, in a way, how Mathias was so determined, and Lukas so reluctant, though it was fairly obvious that the reserved boy liked the attention from the boisterous Alpha.

And of course, there was the beta pairing that fit in the odd mess of cultures that was Gakuen High. Feliks, a blond haired, green eyed Pole, and Toris, a Lithuanian with mousy brown hair, soft green eyes, and an incredibly nervous and indirect way about him, were the most well known. The two were equal in every way, and it was a nice enough relationship, though Gilbert could see no chemistry between them.

And last, but not least, there was his own brother's relationship with a certain Feliciano Vargas. The two were tied at the hip ever since they met in Freshman year of High School, and to be honest, Gilbert found Feliciano to be a very annoying, useless, chattery little thing. He never seemed to know when to stop talking, or even how to be intelligent at all. But Ludwig was very fond of the bright-eyed, peppy, annoying ball of energy, and so it looked as if Gilbert was going to have to be welcoming Feliciano into the family sooner than he would like. It was only Ludwig's Sophomore year, but it was rather obvious that the two were going to be mates. Everyone knew it, even the teachers. So, Alfher and Amelina met with Feliciano's parents and everything was confirmed and arranged. No bad feelings would be held when Ludwig mated with Feliciano at the boy's first heat. Gilbert dreaded the event with every fiber of his being.

He was torn from his musings as the omegas entered the cafeteria, having been released from their classes at long last. They had most likely been the ones who prepared the meal as well. It was important that they learn how to cook, so that they could take care of their future families and mates.

Seemingly without his permission, Gilbert's eyes began to seek out the bright pink flowers that he'd begun to associate with Elizaveta. Sure enough, he found their delicate forms bobbing amongst the sea of other heads that trailed their way through the doors. Alphas were jumping up to either hug their mate close or tug the omega they were interested in over to themselves. Antonio, as was his way, was trying to get Lovino to join him for lunch.

"Mon ami," breathed Francis next to Gilbert's ear, "you should go talk to her. She won't come here unless you ask her to," he advised before scanning the cafeteria to find an impressionable young omega to take under his wing for the meal.

Gilbert steeled his resolve, knowing that Francis had a point. If he wanted to claim Elizaveta as his, he had to reintroduce himself first. Taking a deep breath, the nervous Alpha rose and moved over to where Elizaveta was waiting for her food to be served to her.

He could not screw this up.


	2. Calculated Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! As promised, within the span of a few days. Now this chapter is going to have way more PruHun action going on. I promise we'll get into the other ships soon as well, I'm just trying to figure out what I want to do with Gilbert and Elizaveta's relationship before delving into other ones. I still need Francis and Matthew to meet, after all. x3 Anywho! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Hetalia Franchise. As much as I would love to, I do not.

_"We've begun to raise daughters more like sons... but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters."_

**―Gloria Steinem**

By the time Gilbert reached Elizaveta, she had already gotten her lunch and appeared to be looking for a place to sit. Scrubbing his sweaty palms on his pants one last time, he strode forward.

"Elizaveta!" called the junior, a grin springing to his lips as he noticed her jump. She wouldn't know he went to school here; where she was concerned, no one here knew her by name.

When those lovely emerald eyes landed on his ruby ones, Gilbert slowed and beckoned for Elizaveta to come closer to him. It was not the place of an Alpha who hadn't announced his intentions to go and grab a hapless Omega. He had to ask the Omega to approach him after he'd done the first movement. Elizaveta eyed him wearily, but there was an obvious light of recognition in her eyes.

"Gilbert?" she asked hesitantly, moving her feet forward with a deliberateness that had Gilbert raising one snowy white eyebrow.

"The one and only," He replied smoothily, shooting her his normal lazy smirk. She scoffed in return.

"What do you want, then, Gil?" her voice was unsure still. He was fairly aware of the fact that she was not the same as she'd been when she was younger. This girl was different, nervous and anxious-utterly changed. She no longer had the headstrong belligerence of the child he'd had mud fights with and who had kicked him in the stomach over who got the last cookie. Elizaveta was an omega, and there was no way he could deny it any longer. Not that he'd want to; she made for one attractive mate if he could manage to attain her.

After this brief assessment of Elizaveta's seemingly changed attitude, Gilbert decided to respond to her. "I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind sitting with my friends and me," he stated, forcing himself to not pose the sentence as a question. Alphas had to be demanding, and commanding; that was the only way to establish their dominance, anyway.

Something flickered behind Elizaveta's eyes, something akin to annoyance, but she quickly quelled it. "I don't suppose I really have a choice, do I?" she asked with a world-weary sigh.

"Now why would you want to say 'no' to the awesome me?" asked Gilbert with a confident chortle. "Come on, my friends are this way," he said, not really giving her a chance to respond. He swept the lunch tray from the Hungarian's hands and began to push her forward with his hand pressing into the small of her back.

As soon as the two reached the lunch table, he slid into his normal seat and patted the spot next to him. He was nervous, waiting to see what Elizaveta would do.

Elizaveta took the seat.

The minute she sat down, Gilbert slid her lunch tray in front of her and resumed eating his own lunch, watching with a detached interest as Antonio finally managed to wrangle Lovino over to their lunch table. The omega sat down with a huff, though it was not next to the Alpha who so clearly longed for him. Antonio's crestfallen face inspired a snort of amusement from Elizaveta, a noise that took both Gilbert and his Spaniard friend by surprise. He knew that Antonio was only surprised that Elizaveta was sitting with them in the first place, but Gilbert himself was rather shocked at the loud laugh that Elizaveta had emitted.

Elizaveta's eyes caught their surprised expressions and she immediately returned her gaze back to her food, though the smile never left her lips.

Lovino was sitting moodily in his chosen chair, stabbing angrily at the decadent heap of noodles that sat before him. The faint buzz of angry Italian chattered over the table, playing about the otherwise quiet space.

Francis eventually took his customary seat next to Gilbert, gesturing for the lovely Omega he'd managed to woo to sit across from him. The Omega did so, ensuring that there was plenty of space between herself and Antonio before leaning forward to smile and blush and giggle hanging on Francis's every word, enamored with his smooth, gliding French accent.

The Omega was a freshman, and tiny. A purple ribbon was fixed in her hair, hanging limply against the strands of blonde hair cut so that they just reached her chin. She had large, innocent green eyes that seemed to absorb the world, and every single word uttered to her with a ravenous interest. Her pink dress was almost too humble, too modest. The sleeves ran down to her wrists, ending in pure white ruffles of starched looking fabric. The length of her dress followed much the same fashion, hitting her ankles and ending in a frill of foamy white, brushing the tops of solid black, clodding shoes. Gilbert just barely remembered that her name was Lili and she happened to have an extremely overprotective big brother named Basch before said older brother was pinning Francis' head to the smooth wooden surface of the lunch table.

Another noise escaped Elizaveta, though this one was more of surprise than amusement. Gilbert chose to ignore the scene, knowing that Lili would soon be leaving their presence, and that Francis would be bemoaning how poorly he was treated by the rest of the student populace within the next few minutes. He focused his attention on his lovely companion instead.

"Elizaveta, what have you been up to since I last saw you?" he asked her abruptly, not caring how out of the blue the question was.

"Oh, you know, school and growing up," she replied vaguely.

"Yeah? When did you find out you were an Omega?" he teased her, grinning at her suddenly flushed face. For the longest time, this stubborn girl next to him would insist that everyone eventually became an Alpha. You just developed the attributes as you grew up. Needless to say, it was this insistence that had her separated from Gilbert so quickly.

"That is none of your business!" she hissed suddenly, her old nature firing up like a firework flare, catching light, her words whistling out.

Gilbert was taken aback before he seemed to accept the challenge. "I actually think that it is my business, if you're going to be my mate one day," he said, disregarding all attempts at being polite. Elizaveta only seemed to grow redder.

"What makes you think that I don't already have a mate?" she snarled back, her knuckles on the hand that was gripping the fork were rapidly whitening. Gilbert was infuriating her, and challenging her, and it was honestly rather frustrating.

The white-haired Alpha's smug grin only widened.

"You'd have the scent on you," he replied smoothly, pushing his plate away from him. He was more interested in this turn of events than his food.

Omegas shouldn't act this way, that was why he disliked Lovino, because the Italian wasn't willing to submit to the obvious power of the Alpha. He would try to quell Elizaveta, or at least get her to respect him.

"Well, I don't know why you think that I would want to be your mate!" she snapped, pushing her own plate of food away. Something dangerous glinted behind those green eyes, something smooth and deadly as poison.

Gilbert growled lowly, taking note of the effect this had on the resilient Hungarian. She shivered, seemingly caught between her natural urge to submit and the stubbornness that held her up.

"Let me guess," said Gilbert, his tongue lazy, "You had your first heat, yes? Is that what it took? You, writhing on the bed, moaning and whimpering and practically begging for an Alpha to comfort you, to please you?" he asked her, his voice dropping to a lower octave, his red eyes piercing into their green counterparts and monitoring for the effect of his words. "The sheets tangled around your legs, that scent that can only ever be complimented by an Alpha's. Wouldn't it be nice to have an Alpha, a big, strong, dominant Alpha, to soothe you and claim you? To smother you in his scent and press his weight upon you?" he himself was beginning to get a reaction at the words, his mind having difficulty getting the idea of a naked Elizaveta, wriggling and twisting in a nest that she had created for herself, one simple sheet working its way around her sweating form, out of his head. And if he wasn't wrong, his words were having an effect on Eliza as well. She was panting, her eyes wide and her hand abandoning the fork to work open and closed.

They sat like that for a minute, neither breaking the other's gaze; a battle of will as much as a battle of hunger and desire and need. Who would break first?

At last, Elizaveta's eyes glared down at the linoleum floor of the cafeteria.

"You are a despicable person," she murmured, low and reluctant, but still not as angered as she had been earlier.

"I know," he responded slowly, "but I'm awesome, so it all works out." One of his hands reached out to touch the skin of Eliza's, the softness of her hand soothing to him in his sudden desire. It calmed him, but she quickly wrenched herself away.

"Leave me alone, you pig," she snapped, all the rage and fire back from earlier. It appeared that the earlier comment had been only a brief respite for the both of them, as she soon stood and left their little group, dumping her tray in the cafeteria trash bin before exiting.

A slow round of applause from Francis had Gilbert turning to glare at the Frenchman.

"The fuck do you want, Frenchie?" he snapped.

"That was the most brilliant display of willpower I have ever had the pleasure of seeing, Gilbert, truly. You have such a way with words," Francis swooned, sarcasm dripping from the syllables of every word.

"Mi amigo," said Antonio, "I do not think that was the way to go." He was deadly serious, completely unaware that Gilbert was more than mindful of that little fact.

Lovino just rolled his eyes, but he did move his chair closer to Antonio's. It appeared that the Spaniard's sudden seriousness had Lovino just a tad more willing to be in his presence.

"Dummkopf, as if I don't know that!" growled Gilbert in response, shoving back from the table and spinning angrily away from the table, his plate in hand. He'd honestly had enough of his idiotic friends for the day.

"I'm going to the weapons room," he muttered, beginning to stalk off before he paused. "Don't follow." A warning. And just like that, he was out of the cafeteria, the trash can still trembling from when he'd slammed his lunch into its metal shell.

However, when he wheeled into the weapons room, he was greeted with the sight of Elizaveta hacking away at a particularly unfortunate wooden dummy. The sword she was carrying was of Hungarian origin, with its curved blade and differently designed cross guard.

Gilbert leaned against the doorway, watching Elizaveta with an interest. The way she handled the sword told of years of expertise, its blade flicking and switching and practically licking at the immobile dummy, quick and precise in each movement. Gilbert had only seen a few people who could fight as well as her, and they were all Alphas. It was odd to see an Omega handle such a thing so expertly.

Striding silently into the room, he chose his traditional Prussian sword from the wall of weapons. It had a curve to its blade, but not so deep as Eliza's, and it obviously had a different crossguard, though this one was carved with the Prussia National Bird. It was a gorgeous sword, and perfectly balanced for Gilbert. Sliding along the wall over to Elizaveta, he chose a lull in her furious hacking to replace the dummy's position, pushing it hastily out of the way and sliding into its place. Elizaveta blinked in surprise as the ring of metal clashing into metal replaced the dull 'thunk' of a sword's edge burying itself into wood.

It took her all of two seconds to get over this surprise, however, and soon she was fighting against Gilbert. But their swordfight was almost like a dance. As much as Gilbert liked to brag about himself, he never really meant any of the things he said. He never bragged about his skill as a swordsman, though he was one of the best the academy had ever seen.

And so they worked against each other, each slither of blade on blade ringing like bells in the otherwise empty room. A sweat was beginning to paste their clothes to their backs and sides, and though Gilbert was reluctant to admit it, Elizaveta fought extremely well.

Their dance bled on, parrying and stroking and making extravagant and complicated designs with their bodies, swords switching hands. Everytime one or the other got within real striking distance, they'd stop the blade inches above the other's skin, to show that they could have cut that limb off.

They both seemed to stop in a silent agreement, the swords clattering to the floor, finally sliding from sweaty grips, and their owners collapsing next to the fallen arms.

"Where," a gasp of breath, "the fuck did you learn," another breath, "to fight like that?" asked Gilbert.

"There's something to be said," breath, "when your brothers are both alphas," another breath, "and they want to teach you how to," breath, "fight too."

Gilbert paused at that, a truly horrible and devious idea taking root in his brain.

"Your family could get arrested for that, you know," he said, after a moment of silence long enough for both of them to regain their full breathing capability. "Omegas aren't supposed to know how to fight, that's an alpha's job," he said, turning his head to see how Elizaveta was reacting to this. She had stilled, noticeably so. "If you're willing to agree to my courting you, than I may not turn your brothers and father in. If not, well, who knows what the consequences of your family's actions could be? After all, when I become your mate, I can't allow you to sword fight like that. It is such an un-omega thing to do." he said nonchalantly, sitting up and swiping his sweaty hair back from his forehead.

Elizaveta let out a strangled, angry grunt before Gilbert found himself pinned to the gym floor by the girl, his own sword held to his throat.

"You wouldn't dare," she hissed, anger glossing over her eyes. The flowers in her hair were sitting unobtrusively in a corner of the gym. It seemed that the minute the delicate things were removed from Eliza, she became a feral creature, totally combative of her immediate nature of submission and acceptance. Indeed, even the action of sitting above him was giving both of them a great amount of difficulty, as it was a very dominant gesture, and it didn't help that he was sweaty, and so both his alpha scent and pheromones were permeating the air.

They were at a standstill, no more words coming from Eliza. She was trying not to breathe, to avoid having to inhale Gilbert's addictive scent. But she was having difficulty, and soon, the sword fell from her grasp next to them, and she found herself leaning forward to press her nose to Gilbert's sweaty neck, inhaling his strong, deeply Alpha scent.

A shivered breath escaped both of them before Gilbert pushed the sword farther away from them and quickly switched their positions, rolling them so that he was hovering over Eliza. She clung to him, though, her nose still buried in his skin and little whines escaping her. Her arms had wound under his arms to brace against his back as she pulled her torso up against his, desperate for contact, and more of that delicious smell.

It seemed that nature was impossible to escape for both of them.

Gilbert buried his own nose in Elizaveta's neck, noticing not just her sweaty smell, but the light layer of preheat that was clinging to her form. It would be only another day or two and she'd be locked up in her room, whining, and begging, for an alpha to come and claim her as his.

A growl of possessiveness vibrated through Gilbert as he pressed himself down on top of the girl, not wanting just any other Alpha to claim her. He wanted to, and he'd be damned if he didn't make sure that other Alpha's were aware that they couldn't lay a single hand on her once she went into heat. So he began to work on coating her with his scent.

They were both still inhaling and breathing and bathing in the other's scent, but Gilbert was now pressing kisses to her sweaty skin, tasting the salt of her sweat on his lips. And then he was nibbling at the soft skin, satisfied with the low whimpers escaping her. She was going to be his, and he'd be damned if he let her escape him now.

He was struggling to keep himself from claiming her, from sinking his teeth into the skin of her shoulder, piercing the smooth, soft expanse. He already knew where he would place his mark, too, his tongue lapping at the area, teeth nibbling in a desperate attempt to avoid fully biting down. But it was proving increasingly difficult, and soon, he was beginning to sink his canines into that soft skin. Elizaveta inhaled suddenly, sharply; nervous. But she pressed further into him, not pulling away or pushing him off of her. She wanted this.

And then the weapons room doors busted open and students streamed in, all of them pausing as Gilbert and Eliza flew apart, the Omega clamping her hand over her bleeding neck, in an effort to quell the flow. She wasn't fully marked, but partially, so now Gilbert's smell clung to her, but it would wear off as his mark healed.

What scared Gilbert most was the expression on his younger brother's face. He was going to be in for it when he got home, seeing as Ludwig had this class, and that boy was a total rule follower. Gilbert should wait to claim Eliza until after their parents had discussed the relationship between the two and come to an agreement.

When he glanced back to Elizaveta, her expression was a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and longing. Once she met his eyes, she growled warningly, though it was weak, and altogether rather pathetic. And then, she was up and gone, only her aroused scent, and the whisper of his own aroma clinging to her letting him know that she'd fled.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Bad ending, I know, but I wasn't sure what else to do. I'll upload in another couple days or something. I don't know.
> 
> I should probably explain how my particular omega!verse will be working. In another chapter, the next one, I will explain this layout.


	3. Structure of this Omegaverse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I will elaborate on how I'm going to be working with the omega verse AU. It will, hopefully, give more than enough details to answer any questions. If you do have any other questions that aren't answered, feel free to comment.

**Alphas**

These guys are, obviously, the head figures. They can be male or female, doesn't matter. Obviously they're supposed to take the position of breadwinner of the family, and they are dominant, possessive, controlling, and used to getting whatever the hell they want. This tends to be the case with all alphas, though there are a few exceptions. They are taught how to sword fight, and how to use other weapons, because in this world, you can only really use weapons to injure other alphas. Omegas are easier to dispatch, but guns are rather useless. I know, medieval, but I feel like having this be a medieval world for now. They are also taught the areas of business, finance, and communications with other alphas/packs. Fun stuffs! They also have a scent that is simply impossible for Omegas to resist for very long, and especially when sweaty, because the scent is increased tenfold in its power. It's their job to resist marking Omegas, and to avoid Omegas-in-heat.

**Alpha's Claims**

When Alphas claim their mate, they tend to bite their shoulder, leaving a mark, and the permanent presence of their scent on the Omega's skin. There are different levels of biting, the first one is just a claiming thing. "This Omega is mine" and whatnot. There's a second bite that can be applied that will repel all other Alpha's away from that Omega. This is generally only used with an omega that is particularly flirty. The third one causes the Omega to be completely and utterly submissive to their Alpha, and it essentially takes the Omega's personality away. It's a cruel thing, to bite an Omega on the same bite mark for the third time.

**Betas**

These guys are the inbetweeners. They don't really have a special scent that is addicting to Alphas or Omegas. They can mate with either Alphas or Omegas, and they can certainly have children with them. They aren't as successful as Alphas, but they certainly have more rights than Omegas, and they generally have Betas when they have children, though an Omega or Alpha will occasionally come from a Beta/Alpha or Beta/Omega coupling, even from a Beta/Beta coupling every now and then, though this largely depends on whether or not there was an Alpha or Omega further back in one of the pairs family tree. Also, two male betas cannot have a child, nor can two female betas. Beta pairings can only have children if it is a male/female relationship. The same thing works for Beta/Omega and Beta/Alpha.

**Omegas**

They are, rather obviously, the bottom of the heap. They have the least amount of rights, and the least amount of expectations. They are taught to be demure, subservient, submissive, and to do whatever their Alphas ask of them. One of their greatest stresses is trying to have an Alpha as their first child. That's very important, because it shows of a strong bloodline. They can name their Omega children, but not their Alpha ones, and they are meant to be the homebodies. When their heats kick in, they build a nest in their rooms and are locked away from the world for the week it takes the heat to pass. If an Omega has a mate at this time, the mate spends all of that time with their Omega, mating them and taking care of their every need. If they don't have a mate, they have to find other ways of pleasuring and taking care of themselves. Generally, the Omega has their family to watch them, but if they don't have a mate by the time they're old enough to leave the house, they have to handle themselves all on their own. It's very rare for that to happen. No colleges are out there for Omegas. Only cooking and beauty schools, things that are not meant for a serious career. But Omegas do have the ability to call an Alpha to court if the Alpha attacked them while they were in heat, or if the Alpha touched them when the Omega rather obviously didn't want it. They can call it to court, but it's very rare when they win the case. Alphas have too much of an affect on the court system, being able to buy out some lawyers and judges if they so please.

**Government**

So, obviously, the government is controlled by Alphas, and a couple of Betas. Betas are mellower than Alphas, so its good to have at least a couple in each branch of the government. It's run similar to the fashion of the American Government, with three branches; The Executive, which has the President, or Head Alpha in this case, as its lead; The Judicial Branch, holds the Supreme Court. Commonly ruled by Betas because they are less likely to let anger and opinion rule their heads, this particularly branch dispenses justice and contains all of the courts in their country, from the lowest to the highest; The Legislative Branch has representatives from all of the bigger packs in the area for The Senate, and the smaller packs will tend to band together and select a representative amongst the five or six of them to take part in The Senate. The House of Representatives is the joining of all of the packs in one particular area to choose someone to go and represent them in that particular section of the Legislative Branch. The House of Representatives relies on pack numbers in a given area. Obviously this side of the government has high blood temperatures, as there is always the risk of the Alpha being more partial to his own pack than the others he is chosen for. But his or her selection is generally put up for a vote, and that is how they are chosen.

Omegas honestly have no say in the government. They are forbidden from learning how to fight or use weapons, and are barely given an education. The classes they are pulled out for contain embroidery, sewing, cooking, and other crafts useful to only those who would be working in a house for the rest of their lives. They are supposed to wear clothes that cover their legs completely, and have properly fitting shirts.


	4. The Curse of a Loose Tongue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter, I don't really even know what I was thinking when I wrote it. It's rather short, but meh. I loved y'all's reviews on the last chapter, and I'm really glad that you have enjoyed it thus far!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia franchise.

_"Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead."  
_

**―Ben Franklin, Poor Richard's Almanack**

Gilbert wasn't entirely wrong in his assumption, because the very second that Elizaveta had fled the seen, the class was swarming around him, making obnoxious noises and giggling.

It only took a grand total of forty seconds before Gilbert was snarling and shoving the insolent pups away from him. They were all in Ludwig's class, so about a year or so younger than him.

And then, of course, there was Ludwig to deal with. His eyes held disapproval, an expression that took quite a surprising stab at Gilbert's conscience. He'd always been the bigger brother to Ludwig, the role model. But he'd disappointed his third brother, and he had a feeling that he wasn't going to live this particular indiscretion down.

Ludwig's mouth was pulled into a tight line, and he glared at Gilbert as the elder made his escape out of the gym. Those red eyes were flooded with desire, still, and his muscles were jumping. It was always difficult for an Alpha to come down off of almost claiming an Omega, though it was rare that they even got to the point of claiming one. Even if the two were being sexually intimate, it was unlikely the Omega would be claimed. A certain attraction was required, and the heat was generally necessary, though it wasn't entirely unheard of to claim an Omega outside of his or her heat, as Gilbert had almost done.

When he reached his class, he got the receiving look of knowledge that Francis generally held whenever someone was late to a class. The blond Frenchman would know, nine out of ten times he was the one who was late because of escapades with an Omega or Beta somewhere out in one of the numerous classrooms and broom closets of the school.

Gilbert huffily took his seat, and glared at the teacher, just daring the Beta Male to say something about his tardiness. Wisely, the man swallowed and just resumed his lesson, though his eyes kept flicking back to the angry albino shifting moodily and uncomfortably in the back row.

He was sitting next to Francis, who was more than eager to know what had gone on between Eliza and his Prussian friend.

A note slid onto his desk.

 _Mon ami,_  it read,  _I smell passion on your skin. Pray tell, what happened between yourself and the lovely Elizaveta?_

Gilbert would never understand how in hell Francis was able to fit so much on one measly little slice of paper, but he did know that it was always annoying to try and respond on the same sheet.

 _Stay out of it, Franzose._ Was his response. He was not in the mood to talk about his near loss of control, nor his immediate frustration and anger at having not obtained what he'd wanted. He could still taste Elizaveta's skin, the sweet smell of her sweat and its conflicting salty taste. Her form still slid along the pads of his fingers, soft and supple, but lean with muscle that only sword fighting could give.

_Ah, you know me. It is impossible for moi to stay out of affairs considering l'amour._

Thoroughly exasperated, Gilbert, sketched down a messy, clearly frustrated scrawl and shoved it right back under the neighboring blond man's nose.

_I almost claimed her, you happy?_

An inhale of breath was his only response, silence, and then the furious scribbling of pen that was being pressed much too hard on a thin paper on top of a wooden desk.

_How did it feel? How did she taste? What was it like? Are you all right? You are incredibly stupid, you do know that, right, mon ami? You are dumb and tactless and totally lucky. Tu es un idiot._

Gilbert crumpled up the note in retort to Francis's nosiness and chucked it unerringly into the trashcan. The teacher rose an eyebrow at his insolence, to which he had at least the decency to give an apologetic shrug of his shoulders, but nothing more. He was still in an Alpha after all, and that meant that he was technically of a higher rank than the Beta attempting to teach them about sex.

Like they didn't already know.

As the clock crawled closer to the end of the period, Gilbert readied himself to escape. He hadn't brought anything to class with him, but he needed to rocket towards the door the second that bell lets out its piercing wail so that he could avoid the insatiable curiosity of one of his best friends. And it was going to have to take quite a burst of speed, because Francis was faster than him, unfairly so.

So when the bell peeled down the halls, splitting the doors open like orange slices, Gilbert made a break for it.

And he totally underestimated just how damned fast Francis was, because the minute he got out of his seat, he was being captured between two unforgiving sets of arms, both belonging to his best friends, and spirited off to their go to meeting place, a hidden room that could be found behind a pile of bricks by the outer wall of the school. Neither of them knew why no one else had discovered it just yet, but no one really questioned it.

So, as Gilbert was thrown inside of the room, none-too-gracefully either, he shot glares, eyes bright and haloed, at his friends, cursing himself for forgetting entirely about Antonio, who had evidently been sitting just in front of them. How else would Francis have been able to get a hold of the Spaniard?

"Spill," commanded his French friend, who was perching himself elegantly on top of a pile of bricks that had spilled into the room. Antonio chose to lean against the wall, arms crossed and green eyes strangely intense in the darker gloom.

Sighing, Gilbert resigned himself to his fate, and situated himself more comfortably on the patch of wooden floor that he'd been thrown on before beginning his tale.

By the time he'd finished telling what had happened, both Antonio's and Francis's eyes were wide and incensed.

"What are you going to do, Gil? She can't swordfight. That's against the law," said Francis, earnest and concerned, and at the same time, agitated.

"Francis is right," spoke Antonio, "we have to turn this in, Gilbert. She cannot fight with swords, that is an Alpha ability," and Gilbert promptly bristled in response.

"No! Don't you dare tell anyone, Antonio, or I swear, I will not hesitate to tell them about Lovino," a sharp growl ripped out of Antonio's throat at the threat, his eyes seeming to get clearer, and piercing.

"Very well, mi amigo," spat Antonio, "but do not think that I won't be watching her. If she does anything else that goes against the law, I will turn her family in," and with that, he whirled around, and slid out of the room, leaving the taste of anger and defensiveness curling through the air.

Francis let out a dramatic sigh. "Why must you always act that way around him? Antonio never means any harm. He is simply being honest, Gilbert. If the government finds out about her, they are going to find out that you didn't report it. They are going to find out that none of us reported it. Is it worth getting in trouble over?"

He left that question hanging in the air as he too left the little room, leaving Gilbert to think about what he'd just threatened Antonio with. Antonio, his friend. Groaning, Gilbert slammed his head back against the brick that he was leaning against. Of course he had to yell at one of his best friends over a stupid Omega.

Scrubbing his hands over his eyes, he made to rise before realizing that a pair of green eyes were peering in at him.

They blinked slowly before their owner moved further into the room, and Gilbert's heart fell. It wasn't Elizaveta. On the contrary, it was probably one of the last people he wanted to see at the moment.

Arthur Kirkland smiled at him from across the room, the light still illuminating one half of his body. Eventually, he slid the rest of the way in and occupied the seat that Francis had just vacated, though with a touch less grace.

"I can see the disappointment, Gilbert." He said finally, the British accent flavoring each word with propriety.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at Arthur.

"I can understand that I might not be as attractive as a certain Miss Héderváry, but it would certainly be in your best interests to treat the person who can ruin Elizaveta's little life with a touch more kindness, wouldn't you agree?"

Gilbert had never really contemplated just how evil Arthur could be, but he understood his mistake now.

"Why would you threaten the awesome me?" he scoffed, shrugging on his falsely confident exterior as if it were a costume, and meeting Arthur's eyes with a savage defiance.

"Why would I threaten you? No reason, I just want to make sure that you are aware of the fact that I can threaten you, and I will not hesitate to do so." Arthur smiled, something confusing, because there wasn't all hatred, or violence, or malevolence in that smile. There was indecision, concern, and distraction there as well. And it intrigued Gilbert.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say, just get away from me," he said, trying to play things off as if he were disinterested.

Arthur watched him for a moment before leaving, the lines of tension in his shoulders visibly lessening as he stepped away from the room, something that did not pass Gilbert's observant gaze.

Not long after Arthur's entrance and consequent exit, Gilbert took his own leave. He'd missed the entirety of the last period of the day, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He was going to be more than in for it when he got home, and the last thing he really wanted to deal with was Coach Berwald, with that scary glare of his. He never did seem to be entirely capable of getting his thoughts across either, only grunting in acquiescence or disagreement to any number of the stupid questions Gilbert, Antonio, or Francis would ask.

And so, as the final school bell rang, and the other students washed in waves out of the doors, he began to pick through the crowd, searching for the brown haired Hungarian that he had been pinning to the weapons room floor not but two hours ago.

His nose picked her out first, that musk that he had been so close to and surrounded in; that scent that was now layered with a healthy band of his own smell, cloaking her in its folds and claiming her as his for the time being.

Smirking, he made his way through the crowd, moving closer to the oblivious Elizaveta. She was chatting obligingly to a black-haired, spectacled boy who had a rather prominent mole on his chin. A curl arced spectacularly away from his head, and Gilbert vaguely recognized him from when Francis had introduced him to the group of them. He was a Beta, and Austrian, and had lain with each member of the trio at one point or another. Gilbert would never acknowledge that he had messed with a male Beta, it was almost embarrassing, but it had happened. And apparently it wasn't a particularly memorable thing to him, if not remembering the boy's name was anything to go by.

Narrowing his eyes, he slung an arm around Elizaveta's waist upon reaching her, tugging her possessively into his side even as he felt her begin to struggle against him. His grip tightened, and he whispered warningly in her ear.

"Easy there, my little sword fighter. Wouldn't want the government to know too much, now would we?" he purred, tracing his lips along the shell of her ear before turning his ruby gaze to Eliza's company.

"And just who would you be?" he said blithely, choosing to not even try to remember the Omega's name, though an underlying threat lay in his words. The boy paled but he, remarkably, stood his ground.

"My name is Roderich," he said, in a haughty, arching tone that made Gilbert want to claw his ears off.

"Great, bye then Roderich," he said hurriedly and tugged Elizaveta away. She waved goodbye to her friend and allowed Gilbert to continue to lead her until they got to the edge of the schoolyard.

Within seconds, the warm form of Elizaveta was wrenched away from his grasp, and he had to grudgingly respect how much effort that had probably taken the young Hungarian Omega to do, especially this close to her heat.

"What do you want, Gilbert," she grumbled, a hand surreptitiously moving to cover the bite mark he'd left on her shoulder.

A low chuckle escaped him, "You don't need to hide that from me, Eliza," he murmured, his hand reaching out to twine their fingers together and pull hers away from her neck. "I was the one who created it after all."

Elizaveta blessed him with a glare and furiously yanked her hand from his. "Would you stop touching me?" she snapped, taking a couple of steps back. "Now why are you here?"

Gilbert did not appreciate her tone with him, the way she was trying to order him to do something rubbed completely against his Alpha side.

A growl rumbled, low and warningly, through his chest. "Elizaveta, I suggest not using that tone around me," he warned her slowly, his fingers curling back around her wrist and tugging her back against his chest. "Remember, darling, you are an Omega, and I am an Alpha. Don't forget our society, just because you can use a sword does not mean that you can order me about," he knew that he'd been perhaps a bit too harsh, but everything he'd been taught since he was young went against her attitude around him. He couldn't allow her to be like this, not in his presence anyway.

Glaring, Elizaveta found herself both frustratingly bothered and attracted to his tone, that warning voice. Growling, she shook her head and tried to move against him, tugging backwards with as much of her strength as she could muster.

Gilbert felt Eliza's muscles cord beneath his fingers, her fingers pressing over the cloth of his shirt and against his skin, and a rather evil thought passed through his mind. Smirking, he let her go, watching as she stumbled back, her eyes shooting wide before narrowing into pinpoints of anger.

"What was that for?" she cried, suddenly snatching forward to slap Gilbert.

He grit his teeth, holding back from an equally enraged response. "Well, you wanted to be let go, didn't you? Now come along, Dummkopf, I'm taking you home. We can't have you alone this close to your heat, nein?" he murmured, his pale hair shining brilliantly in the direct light of the sun.

It would be impossible for Elizaveta not to see the logic behind his reasoning. She may hate him, but that didn't mean that she was totally against understanding him. Or, though she'd never openly admit it, that she was well aware of how attractive he was. Those red eyes seemed to notice everything, his skin was soft, laying over pads of muscle, that white blond hair shining in any light that was reflected upon it and delivering a portion of it back to its source. He was gorgeous, and dangerous, and strong, and dominant all at once. It drew her in.

"Very well, but don't touch me," she warned, turning on her heel to stalk away from him, her skirt whirling tantalizingly about her body and clinging to the curve of her hips just long enough for Gilbert to appreciate it.

Laughing, he followed after her, ignoring her warning and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side. It was a gesture influenced largely by the fact that she was an Omega in preheat, which made Alphas automatically consider the idea that protection was necessary for the fragile beings.

And so he accompanied her to her house, managing to strike up a reasonable conversation with her about how her Omega classes were going. These moments of respite were few and far between, but they existed. It wasn't until they got to her front door that he realized the slight problem they were going to have to be dealing with.

"Ehm, Elizaveta," he said carefully, releasing her to run a nervous hand through his hair, his red eyes shifting anywhere but at the bitemark at her neck. "How are your parents going to react when they see that claim shining upon your pretty little neck?"

She seemed to wilt at the thought. "Well, that is something I can deal with myself, thank you," she said, remaining strong, despite the insecurity in her eyes.

Swallowing, Gilbert shook his head. "No, the awesome me did this. I will tell your parents that that is my awesome mark." It was fairly obvious to anyone who would have been watching that he was forcing this confidence onto himself.

Before either of them could argue the point further, the door swung open. There stood Elizaveta's father, her mother standing just behind her. Elizaveta looked at the Alpha of her family, the woman who had sired her, and she bowed her head, feeling the disapproving glare rolling through those rocky brown eyes. She could smell the younger Alpha's scent on her daughter, and she did not approve of this way of going about things. Her mate, a female Omega who looked very similar to Elizaveta, was covering her mouth in shock, gazing at her daughter with an almost disappointed expression. Elizaveta shrunk down further.

It took Gilbert about two seconds to step in front of the Omega he'd taken a liking to, gazing calmly and challengingly into the eye's of the Alpha standing before him. "I would like to speak with you in private," he spoke unshakingly, understanding that it was highly likely that Elizaveta's parents would deny him his request, especially after this tiny issue. It wasn't against the law to mark an Omega before officially mating them, it was rather common, in fact. But it still was considered a little rude to do so without asking the parents of the Omega, whether the parents are both Betas or if they are Omega and Beta, or Alpha and Beta, or Alpha and Omega. There was no exception to this expectation.

With a judgmental look, a slight nod of the head was all he got in response from Elizaveta's father, and he was soon being gestured into the house.

This was probably a thousand times worse than talking to Ludwig would have been, and not for the first time, Gilbert cursed his arrogant ass, and his unfailing capability to throw himself headlong into situations that would get him in trouble.

With a deep breath, he stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! I have ended this lovely chapter on a reasonably okay note, right?
> 
> Please look at the poll on my profile! And I promise that we will have some Franada and UKUS action to squeal over soon! And maybe some DenNor as well. So yay! Celebration, non?
> 
> Until sometime this week, my beautiful readers.


	5. The Consequences of an Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia Franchise.

_"_ _Screw the rules, damn the consequences, and just love. Love until it kills you, because there's nothing better worth dying for."_

**―** **Karen Amanda Hooper,** **_Tangled Tides_ **

Gilbert stepped cautiously over the threshold, peering about with a reserved wonder. The building wasn't altogether stunning, but it was reasonably eye catching, with its soaring staircase that arched away from the central foyer sort of room that he'd stepped into, to the obviously mahogany-made office off to his left. To his right, there was a hall branching off to a kitchen, and past that, a dining room. The living room was just ahead of the door and barely to the left of the spiral staircase. He could only assume that bedrooms were held upstairs, as he doubted that he'd receive the opportunity to see them on this particular visit.

The alpha of the house steered him to the left, guiding Gilbert swiftly into the office and gesturing towards a chair. A shuffling of feet behind him alerted the young Alpha to the fact that Elizaveta would not be joining this conversation, as she was being gently guided upstairs, like she was some fragile vase, by her mother.

The Alpha on the other side of the desk cleared her throat, easily snagging Gilbert's attention.

"Before we get into what this is all about, I think it would be best that we introduce ourselves, wouldn't you agree?" she questioned, though it was really more of a demand.

Gilbert just nodded in response.

"Wonderful." Her tone was sarcastic. "Now then, my name is Etel, and my mate's name is Aranka." She made a gesture, implying that Gilbert should give his name. It wasn't that she didn't know who he was, it was kind of impossible to forget about an Albino Alpha that your daughter was best friends with. But, to establish a good about of respect in this arrogant boy, she was going to have to act cool and indifferent.

Clearing his throat, Gilbert composed himself, hoping to God that his voice didn't waver. "I'm pleased to meet you, Etel, and your lovely mate, Aranka. My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Etel eyed him critically for a moment. "Well, now that we are past the introductions, let's get down to business." She paused, watching him out of surprisingly cold amber eyes. "You almost marked my daughter, and without her, or my consent."

Gilbert shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He knew that this was going to be difficult, but didn't assume that she would be so blunt about the situation either. From where this Alpha sat behind the huge chunk of mahogany desk, she looked tiny, minuscule. The room was dark, foreboding, but professional, with its bookcases, sleek dark wood bookshelves, pictures of the family on a family vacation at one point or another, a nice lamp from the 1940s that sat on its little pedestal atop the desk, its neck arching just a bit before suddenly being heavily weighted down by a long metal rectangle. The chair that he was sitting in had arms that curved just a little bit out, ending in waves of rolling wood, like a leaf. Its red leather was nailed into the rest of the wooden seat with conspicuous golden nail heads, and curved down and just around the bottom of the chair.

Gilbert knew that he was stalling for time in his brief assessment of the room, but it'd always been a problem for him to focus when he started getting antsy. Being pushed into a corner was not his thing. It was totally un-awesome of her to do this to him, in his opinion.

"Well, Etel, unfortunately, you are right. I did almost mark your daughter, and I do understand the implications that would come with that, but she was hardly unwilling. And, with all due respect, don't you think it is time to start searching for a mate for your Omega child? She is hardly the delicate flower that you want her to be, and if you're not careful, no Alpha's going to want her when he sees the attitude she's willing to send back," he shrugged nonchalantly, knowing that he could very well be causing Etel to bristle at his words. "Elizaveta is lovely, but she doesn't know her place very well. Are you aware that your Alpha sons taught her to swordfight?" he asked her, just slipping the forbidden fact into their conversation as an extra tidbit to warn her. He wasn't generally so crafty with his words, or even so mature, but this was a stressful, and very tense situation. He had to rise to the occasion.

It worked.

Etel's posture seemed to straighten, though the glimmer of interest in her eyes flickered for a moment, as if she was unsure of where to take negotiations now that she knew this young Alpha could hold something over her head. "What way do you have to prove this, Gilbert?" she asked him carefully, making a mental note to scold Elizaveta later for her blatant disregard for the rules of their society.

"Well, much as I hate to admit it, I had been sword-fighting with her before things got a little more… Er... Interesting," Gilbert supplied, hesitating at the word.

"Sword fighting? You dared to sword fight with an Omega? You could be thrown in jail. You could have injured what may very well be another Alpha's Omega one day." Etel said, momentarily pleased with her way of getting around his threat. It was partially true and untrue. He wouldn't get in the same amount of trouble that she would if the truth was found out, but he wouldn't necessarily get away scot-free either.

Gilbert paled, if that was even possible, and began to think, his eyes flickering once more about the rich office, with its autumn colors shining in a burnished metal sort of fashion in the dim light. "I had never… Thought of that…" trailed off Gilbert then, momentarily quailed, though he did make it his business to meet the other Alpha's eyes. He couldn't very well show any signs of subordination at this point; he himself was an Alpha as well.

Etel paused then, and studied him. He was a strong Alpha, one that she knew would take care of her feisty Omega daughter well. The lines of muscle and stubbornness that could be read in his shoulders told her enough of that, anyway. He had a lovely face, not too sharp, or pointed, but not so round either. A smidgen of baby fat still hung about his cheeks, but she knew that would go away too, once he got into more combat training. There was a gleam in his eyes that attracted her; those red, red eyes. The eyes of hatred, anger, rage, and the eyes of love, passion, and beauty. So much could be read into those eyes, but the only thing she certainly saw there, in those scarlet depths, was embarrassment, that pinking cheek kind, and determination. He wanted to have the chance to court Eliza, and something told her that he'd do whatever he could to catch her. In many ways, this fierce tenacity seemed to forego the bright, angel-white of his hair, pure in its clear, pearly essence. The light shone down on that head of his, disillusioning just how human this boy could be, passing him off as if he were a saint, or some other ancient divinity, with a halo circling and kissing the crown of his head.

"I will give you permission to court my daughter under one condition," she waited, lingering to see his acknowledgement and understanding of her words, "that you respect her decision in whether or not she wishes to accept you as her Alpha. If you lay a single hand on her that she doesn't consent to being there, than I promise that you will regret ever coming to this house and asking my permission. I also do not want you around her at any time during her preheat and heat. Now that you've gotten a taste of Elizaveta, your body is going to be naturally inclined and hell-bent on completing the task, and fully claiming her, not just in a mark, but in a complete relationship as well. Heat would be debilitating to both of you, because in many ways, she'll want the same thing. You are the only Alpha to have ever gotten that close to her, and her body will have already slightly attuned itself to you, especially after you almost completely marked her." With those wise words to leave him with, she shooed the young suitor away, flapping her hand in the direction of the door.

Gilbert didn't need anything else to tell him to get out of there. He was gone in a blur, pausing long enough at the front door to thank Aranka, who was going to invite him to stay for dinner, for taking care of Elizaveta, before he was out of the house and on his way home, his mind pedaling with possibilities, and plans. He certainly needed to do a lot to impress a stubborn Omega like Eliza.

Almost the second Gilbert walked through the door of his home, his mother was dragging him into a chair, and he was greeted with the steely gray, disappointed eyes of his father, and the brighter blue of his brother's. His mother was standing uncomfortably in the background, though you could tell she didn't approve of what he'd done either.

"Gilbert," his father stated, getting straight to the point, "you are grounded, for the total of one month. No ifs or buts about it, you could have wrecked that girl. She wasn't in her right mind at that point, and you should have had better control of yourself. What if you had fully marked her?" his father's voice was stern, anger marking every word, and a grim undertone as well.

Gilbert groaned. This wooing of Elizaveta was going to take a lot longer if he was grounded. His mind immediately began to peddle as he tried to think of a way out of the situation.

"Now, Father, what would you say if I told you that I've already received the approval of her parents to court her?" he asked him, his eyes shining with the same hope that had been compared to the brilliant mass of white hair that perched upon his head earlier on.

"Gilbert, I don't care.  _Wunderbar_ , you have permission from her parents to court her; not mark her, or claim her. Am I to believe that there aren't stipulations? That you are her Alpha already? She isn't going to be easy, Gilbert, and you need to learn your lesson. Your punishment will remain as it is, and if you try to persuade me to get you out of it, I will be sure to lengthen it, and maybe talk to Elizaveta's parents and persuade them to cut off their agreement with you."

That had Gilbert gulping and nodding. He understood, both of the threats, though he knew that his father wouldn't go through with the second one. He'd been hinting at Gilbert's need to find an Omega soon, so this was as good an opportunity as any. But that didn't necessarily mean that Alfher approved of the fact that his son had almost marked an Omega who had been rather vulnerable at the time.

Gilbert decided not to mention the sword fighting thing. He had a feeling that would get him in an even worse situation than the one he was currently in.

After their 'negotiation,' Gilbert was released up to his room, where his punishment would commence for the next month. He was to go there every night the minute he got home, and he was forbidden to socialize with any of his friends outside of school. It was pretty awful for Gilbert, as he was quite the socialite when he wanted to be, and now he'd have to miss out on Antonio and Francis's company, as annoying as they generally were.

As soon as Gilbert sat down on the mattress, bouncing a moment as it grew accustomed to his weight, Ludwig was walking into the room. The solemn blue eyes of his younger brother bore holes into Gilbert. It was truly an uncomfortable, and desolate sensation, and so Gilbert glared pointedly at a space just behind Ludwig's head. He was kind of mad at his younger brother. He was the reason that he was in this situation; if the rule-following German had just decided to not tell their parents, he may have still been able to go places after school, and have friends, and acquaintances, and remain frenemies with Arthur Kirkland.

"What do you want, Ludwig?" growled out Gilbert, finally shifting those red eyes to the blond haired boy. They held a slowly simmering anger, not too close to fury or rage, but close enough to warrant a little bit of concern.

"You know I had to tell them, Gilbert. They would have found out eventually," stated Ludwig, as much of a sympathetic tone as was possible for him leaking into the syllables and letters of each word. He'd always been the more mature one of the Beilschmidt brothers.

"Whatever, West, just go away. Your un-awesomeness is giving me a headache." grumbled the older sibling, turning to lay in his bed and flipping so that his back was to Ludwig. He didn't suppose there was a real reason for the name West, other than the fact that his brother had been born in the West part of Germany, unlike himself, who'd been born further East, in the once-country of Prussia.

Ludwig hesitated a moment before leaving. He knew where he wasn't wanted, and besides, he had to check on Feliciano. One could never know when the helpless Omega needed some assistance.

Gilbert was laying flat out on his bed, when his phone buzzed, the bright screen burning a little patch of light on the ceiling. It had gotten dark enough outside at this point for there to be a very small amount of light in the actual room.

When Gilbert rolled over to check the person who texted, he was simultaneously elated and disappointed to find that it was only Francis. Sighing, but knowing he had nothing better to do, he pulled the text open, scanning it quickly before rapidly responding. This was an interesting piece of information, more interesting than he'd ever read before, anyway.

_Der Franzose: Gil, le petit frère d'Alfred is coming to our school tomorrow. Exciting, non?_

_The Awesome Gilbert: For you, maybe, but not for me, Franzmann. I am grounded, thanks to the Elizaveta fiasco._

_Der Franzose: Aw, trop mauvais. You will not get to watch me seduce this newest of Omegas._

_The Awesome Gilbert: I don't see that as a loss. Goodnight, Francis, you Dummkopf._

And with that last note, their conversation was over. Gilbert set his phone down again, only to get yet another text, but this time, from Antonio. He hated to admit that he still had hopes that it would be Elizaveta who would text him, even though that would be pretty unrealistic, as he'd never given her his phone number.

_Die Tomate: Hola mi amigo! How was the lovely Elizaveta's house? ;)_

Well, he had to say that Antonio seemed to forgive grudges fairly quickly.

_The Awesome Gilbert: It was schrecklich, Antonio. Her parents were there, and her father was intimidating._

_Die Tomate: Ah, mis disculpas. Lovino agreed to let me court him! You are jealous, no?_

_The Awesome Gilbert: Jealous of you? Why would I be jealous of you, having to court such an irritable Omega? Nicht, I have been given the green light to court Eliza, a much more attractive option._

_Die Tomate: As if Lovino would be interested in you anyway. Goodnight, Gil._

Gilbert didn't bother to respond, being in a bad enough mood as it was, both of his friends seemed to be doing nothing but furthering this deficient attitude.

Eventually he put his phone away, after playing a couple rounds of a rather addictive app that he'd discovered not too long ago on Francis's phone and had subsequently added to his own gallery of applications. Besides, he knew that eventually one of his parents would think to come and collect his phone. He might have a better chance at keeping it if they don't see him actively using it.

Sleeping, on the other hand, was rather difficult. He had too much pedaling through his mind to really start to sleep. For starters, he had to figure out how to even be capable of talking to Eliza after their encounter in the weapons room. Second of all, he needed to start considering what he was going to get her as courting presents. She wouldn't be in school for at least the next week, now that her preheat had kicked in so strongly, so he at least had a little time. What he was going to do with that time was another matter. And then, of course, there was the little issue with Arthur.

He and the Englishman used to be rather okay friends, but then a rift sprung up between them as soon as Gilbert had become friends with Francis. Arthur just couldn't stand the Frenchman, though that may or may not have been because the then young Francis had managed to convince Alfred, the Omega Arthur has now thoroughly staked as his own, to avoid Arthur for a few years, until they reached high school. There was something about Arthur being unfair to him. Gilbert didn't know, and he was pretty sure he didn't care either. They were back together, and that was all he needed to concern himself with.

Needless to say, it was well into the early dawn hours of the morning before he was able to fall into a fitful doze.

Walking through the school doors, Gilbert was well aware that he probably didn't look his best. But that hardly warranted the dramatic gasp that escaped Francis upon the Frenchman's blue eyes landing on him, and the theatric reaction of Antonio, who's mouth dropped open as he fell to his knees on the floor. The Spaniard then clasped his hands together and began praying to God that his friend would be okay, and that he was still the Gilbert they all knew.

Growling in sleep deprivation and lack of caffeine, another sanction that had been placed on him in lieu of the previous day's events, Gilbert was not in the mood to deal with such mockery. Pushing past his two rather shell-shocked friends, he wrenched his locker open and began to angrily pull and trade binders.

It was, or so he later claimed, his earnest interest in not choosing the wrong things that distracted him from the change of mood in Francis, or the smell of a new Omega flooding into the hall, or the returned stench of Alfred.

What did get his attention, though, was how Francis nearly slammed his fingers into his locker door as he seemed to lose all control of his movements. Blinking slowly, Gilbert glared at his friend for a moment or two before following his line of sight and noticing Alfred's twin walking down the hall.

He seemed rather soft spoken, with a similar facial structure to Alfred, those same cheeks, and cheekbones, nose and lips, but with different hair, eyes, and facial shape. His hair hung down to about his chin, one stray curl springing roguishly from his head and hanging like a satellite around his skull. And his eyes were a lovely shade of violet, even Gilbert would attest to that. He seemed rather skinny, but most Omegas were. Alfred was odd in that he was large for his type, taller than Arthur.

Alfred, unlike his brother, had bright blue eyes that always seemed to be glimmering with excitement and thrill and joy, and innocence. He was always grinning, and putting himself in everyone's business; a total gossip. And his hair was shorter, though he did have a wisp of it that always stuck up out of the mass of shaggy strands, as obnoxious as its owner.

The minute Arthur saw his unmarked Omega, he was by the boys side and tugging him to the side of the hall for a "kiss" which quickly turned into a bit more than just that. Arthur was only about a half of an inch shorter, but he made up for that height difference in his commanding presence. Alfred would always melt around him, becoming easily pliable beneath Arthur's orders. It was both endearing and disturbing, and Gilbert made it a point not to look in the corner that they were at, though he knew there was less kissing and more smelling and pressing. Alfred's backpack was pushed up against the wall, the alien shape to it, with its red buggy eyes, not being used for anything but a cushion at this point.

His twin, on the other hand, had a backpack that seemed to be a white bear, and he was blushing at the rather obvious display of dominance that Arthur was exhibiting. His own pointed avoidance of the corner that Arthur and Alfred were occupying was what kept him completely unaware of Francis's incoming presence.

The blond man swooped in on the boy with surprisingly more caution than he normally had. He seemed to really want to make a good impression, and he knew that this twin spoke French, even if it was only Canadian French, so he already had something in common with him.

Gilbert decided to leave Francis to his own session of courting, choosing instead to head to class.

What he left behind him in the hallway was certainly interesting. Ludwig was pressing his face into his hand as Feliciano pointed happily at his canned tomatoes. Normally the two Vargas brothers were completely against the use of canned foods, but Feliciano had always been rather enraptured with the idea of a "tomato fairy" existing in one of the metal cylinders.

Arthur was burying his nose into Alfred's neck, inhaling the familiar musky smell of the American that would one day be his mate. It had a nice soap overlay, clean and soothing. His lips pressed into that familiar patch of skin that he'd been paying more attention to as the months progressed, his lips working and teeth beginning to nip. Alfred murmured something that sounded similar to "God Arthur, I missed you," but the Alpha couldn't be sure. He was having difficulty controlling himself.

And the same could be said for Alfred. His own nose was working its way into the hair behind Arthur's ear, the smell of rain, and a faint touch of the city to him. He smelled of smoke, but that was okay, because he was Arthur, his Arthur, and he was perfect. A whimper slid past Alfred's lips as he felt Arthur press his teeth a little farther into his skin, and he began to force himself to push the Alpha away.

"Arthur," he wheezed, "we can't. You know we can't."

Something dangerous, frightening, flickered in Arthur's green eyes, but he seemed to quell whatever that was and smile, wearily.

"I know, Alfred, I know," he murmured resignedly and returned to just kissing his future mate.

Francis was working on Alfred's twin, who he'd found out to be called Matthew, though he himself pronounced it differently.

"Mathieu," he murmured, "can I help you with your books?" he wasn't sure if he should start in on their shared French language yet, or give it a few more days. He didn't want to frighten Matthew away, and he was concerned that Alfred would already have told him about his reputation. And for once, he was ashamed, and embarrassed, of what he'd done in the past.

Matthew gazed at him a moment, no emotion showing in those purple eyes, before a soft smile graced his expression.

"You're one of the only people who have noticed me, you know," he said slowly as he let Francis take his books. His thumbs looped into the straps of his backpack as Francis led him to his newly assigned locker. He'd told the Alpha which locker he'd been given, and evidently, it was rather close to Francis's.

"What?!" gasped Francis, gesturing for Matthew to open the locker. "How could someone not notice such a beautiful Omega as you?" he murmured, reaching out with a hand to brush it down the side of Matthew's cheek. " _Vous êtes très beau, mon petit Mathieu_ ," he said, hoping to God that his so called 'little Matthew' didn't take that too poorly.

Matthew gave him a surprised look before returning to focus on the task of organizing his locker. Francis couldn't help but to smile as he watched the Omega who'd taken his heart, who had very well tamed him at a single glance. This would be interesting.

Antonio was making a rather dramatic show of bowing to Lovino, not caring about the angry, embarrassed Italian who was flusteredly yelling at him to stop being such a "showy bastard." A bouquet of the National Flower of Italy, Poet's Jasmine, was being held across his chest. One could only assume that Antonio had given him the flowers, and the omega did like them, that was something that could be shown in the way he was cradling the things against him, but that didn't mean that he was going to let Antonio, the oblivious Antonio, know that.

But now, Antonio was very much ruining what could have been a wonderful moment. He was being too obvious, too attention grabbing for Lovino to fully appreciate it.

Eventually, the Italian did give up, though it took a little while, and a few persuasive words from Antonio, before he was willing enough to let Antonio touch his face, and draw him closer to press a chaste kiss to his lips, and then press equally soft kisses to both of his rounder cheeks. It was a sweet moment, and one that had some of the Omegas in the hall smiling in wistful hope.

And last, there was the odd pair of the Danish Alpha and the Norwegian Omega. Mathias was leaning on the locker next to Lukas, the cool, emotionless Omega that he'd taken such an interest in, chattering about what he hoped to accomplish today, and what he'd done last night, and what they would do today, and so on. Lukas, though he tried not to, was actually absorbing every word of his more enthusiastic counterpart. He was also purposefully putting things slowly in his locker so as to prolong his time with Mathias. Well, that, and Lukas did want to get a good look at his Alpha for a little while too.

Mathias always had that wild cropping of blond hair atop his head, that seemed to flop to the left side when one was looking at him. The strands stuck in little spiky groups of their own, though there wasn't a single bit of skin on the top of his head to see. Every now and then, he'd wear a little black cap on the left side of his skull, but that would depend on the day. He also had blue eyes, eyes that were generally just as excited as Alfred's. His outfits would vary in color, from red and black, to pink and green. He was energetic, random, spazzy, and chatty, and a perfectly imperfect match for Lukas.

And yet, the shy, reserved, blond haired, blue eyed Norwegian loved him. He loved how Mathias was more willing to try things, and would make him get out there and try them as well; he hated how Mathias was always so pushy and demanding; he loved everything, and he hated everything as well. But he wouldn't give this man up for the world.

And so, as the bell for class rang, he let Mathias rather jealously and possessively place an arm around his shoulders and drag him off to his first class. He had always been insistent that he walked him to class. It was just another thing to add to the perfection that is, was, and always would be Mathias to him.

And so, the hallway cleared, and the day began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! For this chapter anyway.
> 
> What did y'all think of the ending? I was okay with it. Not my best, but certainly far from my worst. I kind of had fun adding the little bits of insight into the different pairings at the end of this. Sorry about not putting PolLiet in there, don't worry, they will exist, I promise.
> 
> Until next time! Au revoir.


	6. A Perfectly Perfect Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I had busy Summer things to do, one of which involved going to France. A beautiful country, if I do say so myself. Absolutely beautiful. I must say that Paris is overrated, though. I think that the smaller towns are the true spirit of France. They're so much more personable and welcoming, if that makes sense. You don't get glared at by cranky French people as much. Sorry, if you are French and I just insulted you! Y'all are actually very nice. Just not most of the Paris people. They are judgmental little things.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia franchise. So I own nothing but my own writing here. And some of my ideas for this AU.

_"The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking."_

**―Albert Einstein**

The day itself was an awkward affair. Of his friend group, Gilbert was the only one who didn't have an Omega that was with him to court. So, naturally, he was forced to sit uncomfortably at the table he and his friends shared as said friends amused, flirted, and kissed their chosen Omegas. Well, to be fair, Antonio and Romano were the only ones doing the kissing, but still. It was awkward and miserable, and Gilbert did eventually leave halfway through lunch. He had details to work out pertaining to Elizaveta and how in the world he was going to get her to accept him as her mate.

It only took a few minutes of agonization over what to do to have Gilbert quickly dispelling any forming ideas.

"It's whatever," he murmured to himself from where he was making practice swings with his sword in the weapons room. It was always a nice thing to do to get him to focus. "Who could possibly turn down the awesome me, with my awesome skills, and my awesome personality?"

When Ludwig's class began to swarm into the room, Gilbert put his sword up and went off to class, twisting his body this way and that to avoid the mingling bodies of the Alphas in the hallway. Omega classes were in another hall.

The layout of Gilbert's school was pretty simple. There were three separate halls, all branching off from the main body of the school, which held the cafeteria and administrative offices. When walking through the front doors, the first hall on the left belonged to the kids going from grades 1-5. They weren't quite separated out in nature groups just yet, as they were too young for anything serious to happen, and some basics needed to be taught to everyone. A playground was attached to the very end of their wing, and it was a complex affair. That was where the segregation between Alphas and Omegas would first start to show itself. The Omegas were generally made, by teachers, to rest on the sidelines so as not to injure themselves. They would giggle and talk and play paddy-cake and other menial hand games, but not wrestle and play ball. The Alphas, on the other hand, were allowed to romp around however much they pleased, breaking limbs or straining muscles. The playground equipment was mainly dominated by Alphas, and Omegas only ever clambered up if they were brave, and if no Alphas were present on it. Alphas could be quite violent before they learned to control their temper around their weaker counterparts.

As you kept walking down the main hall, you were greeted with the middle hall, the one containing the Omegas. This hall was close to the younger kids's classes in order to give the Omegas opportunity to learn how to mother and care for younger children.

And finally, after the Omega hall, you had the Alpha wing. This wing was large, a lot bigger than both of the other two. It was more of a building than a hall. The regular classrooms dotted one side of the passageway, and on the other were doors to gyms, weapons rooms, tech rooms, and meeting rooms for mock trials. The Alphas always got the best, and most modern equipment on the market, including fresh textbooks every two or three years.

Society had always been this set apart, dating all the way back to the ancient peoples. But small groups of both Omegas and Alphas were springing up, furious with the way things were and trying to fight back. Not all Alphas were brawny and loud, far from it. Some were quiet, and reserved, not wanting to draw attention to themselves and preferring, instead to just read a book somewhere in a corner. There were Omegas out there who could fight with the best of them, Omegas with the build of Alfred who were unhappy with constantly being hampered by society's traditions and rules. These focus groups were generally paid very little mind.

The week passed without interruption. Gilbert got himself landed in detention, Francis made further headway in getting Matthew to allow him to court him—an interesting thing to all who knew Francis, as this was an Alpha who no one ever thought would tie himself down. Francis could only hope that Alfred never told Matthew his past—and Antonio was getting closer and closer to getting Romano to accept him. The Italian had always liked the Spaniard, it wasn't exactly a secret, and so Antonio didn't entirely have to do a lot to win his way permanently into the boy's heart.

When Gilbert got home that Friday afternoon, his father greeted him with the most unfortunate of news, in Gilbert's opinion anyway.

"Something excellent has happened, Gilbert!" said Alfher, his steel eyes shining under the lights in the ceiling. A growing dread was creeping through Gilbert's veins as he waited patiently for the man to continue. "Feliciano has gone into heat! You will not be seeing your brother for some time, my son." The pride was practically leaking out of Alfher's pores. It made Gilbert want to break something. After a rather miserable week, this was just the cherry on top; the nasty, overripe, worm-riddled cherry on top.

"Great," he drawled, his voice caustically sweet. "Now we can add an idiot like Feliciano into our family and just watch as the world collapses around us." His red eyes were furious, and before his father could respond, he was storming upstairs and into his room, slamming the door behind him.

And for once, the painted squares of black and white that were meshed together as fragments all over his walls did nothing to make him smile. The swords, sitting like a coat of arms over the head of his bed changed nothing about his mood. Not even the plush black carpet, enveloping his toes in its cushy embrace, did anything. His room, as cool, sleek, modern, and black and white as it was, was doing nothing to make him feel suave and awesome, and like himself. He wanted to be close to Eliza, the effects, he could only assume, of the half-claim that was no doubt still marking her. He didn't want to call Feliciano brother. He didn't want anything to change.

And so, in a fit of teenage drama, he threw himself on his bed, which was pushed up against the right wall of his room, laying sprawled across the cross of the Teutonic Knights that was on his comforter. Groaning, he moved his hands to scrub down his face. The only entertainment left to him right now was either A) Working out something for Eliza, or B) Reading. His phone had been taken away a day or so after the start of his punishment. As reading was such an unattractive option to Gilbert, he chose to make something for Eliza. More of a plan, than anything else. Nothing material. He figured that, the day she came back to school, which would be Monday, he'd be there to greet her and guide her through the doors. And from then on, he'd walk her to class, even if that meant going into the Omega hall, and he'd be sure to get her lunch for her at lunch. He'd compliment her, and be a gentleman the entire day.

As much as Gilbert would hate to admit it, he was jealous that his brother was getting to mate with an Omega. Gilbert had done it before, yes, but never during heat; never to form a bond. Those Omegas who did sell themselves like that were generally sought after by Alphas who didn't have someone to impress. It was just the way things worked. They were the soon to be trash on the streets, as few, if any Alphas would want an Omega that had been with several people as a mate. And Gilbert was going to miss his brother, even if the boy had gotten him in an immense amount of trouble.

On Monday morning, Gilbert was waiting for Elizaveta to make her appearance. He generally got to school early, only because he had nothing better to do in the mornings, and he was so blasted full of energy that he had to find some way to be active. And when you're early to school, you tend to get to witness a lot of drama. Or not a lot, as some days may hold. Today was a relatively mellow one.

The first few to roll in after Gilbert were the Beta-Alpha couple of Hercules and Kiku. Hercules was a rather slow guy, quiet and tired seemingly all the time. He was the Beta in the pairing, surprisingly enough, as he was a fair bit larger than Kiku. Kiku was an odd Alpha. He was shy and close-mouthed, and he didn't speak a lot. After those two came Yao, a Chinese Alpha who was a self-proclaimed Asexual. That was a fairly odd day, when he announced that to the student populace, but everyone soon got over it. Accompanying him was the intimidating Ivan, a Russian Beta who terrified the wits out of everybody but Yao. The two of them were pioneers of Equal Rights Clubs in the school. Then, fanning in after, were Antonio and Romano, who were enthusiastically arguing in a mixture of Spanish and Italian; Francis, who seemed to be trying desperately to talk to a rigid and obviously very pissed off Matthew; a grinning Alfred and an amused Arthur; and Lukas and Mathias, the Danish and Norwegian couple. They didn't look too happy with one another, a dark look clouding Lukas's face, and a smile missing from the generally laughing Mathias. Gilbert was slightly concerned that their little spat was a bad omen for his day.

Before Gilbert could dwell on any of the couple problems fanning out in the school, Elizaveta appeared. She stepped out of her Father's black Escalade with grace, her electric blue parachute pants drawing eyes from all over the front of the school. She wore a white tank top with it, tucked in, and some white gym shoes. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, stray strands falling down to frame her face. Compared to Gilbert's simple Metallica t-shirt and dark wash jeans, she was a Goddess. And he certainly would agree with that summary, as he stood there gawking. He almost forgot to step forward and help her into the school.

When Elizaveta saw Gilbert, a furious blush came to her face. Gilbert had to admit, it was rather impressive. And there was only one reason why she'd be embarrassed to see him now, and not indignant as she'd been before her heat. She must have been dreaming of him. The Omega fidgeted nervously with the strap to her satchel bag, her eyes flicking about to see if she could hitch alongside someone she knew, but they were about the only two students out there at the moment.

"Guten Morgen," said Gilbert cheerfully, grinning cockily over at the beautiful Hungarian. Elizaveta tried, and failed, to form a scowl in his direction. She was much too attracted to him, it was fairly obvious. Clearly her heat had changed her point of view a wee bit. "I figured I'd walk you to class today."

"Did you now?" she said, finally, a patronizing, sharp edge to her voice. "I know my way around the school, trust me, that won't be necessary," she said, starting forward in an attempt to slide around him. As attracted to him as she was, she was stubborn enough to keep herself from giving in to that devilish smirk of his.

Gilbert's feet moved seemingly of their own accord as he reached out to wrap them around her waist pull her slowly in front of him. "Ah, I don't think you'll be going anywhere without me today, Engel," he said, his accent slipping into the last word. Elizaveta's nose wrinkled.

"Did you just call me Angel?" she asked him, one eyebrow rising. For someone who had been so willing to get away from him not two seconds ago, she seemed to have settled herself in his arms fairly easily. "Come on, you couldn't get more original?" And with that, she pinched his hands, gliding past as he yelped in pain and yanked his arms out from around her.

Her laugh peeled down the hallway to dance mirthfully in his ears. He watched her go, scrubbing at the red circles resting on the backs of his hands. She was going to be difficult, and he clearly was going to have to do more than just offer himself. As he shrugged and went to class, he completely missed Elizaveta meeting up with the Austrian Beta from yesterday, Roderich. Nor did he notice the soft smile she sent the awkward boy's way.

And when, at lunch, Gilbert searched for the Omega that he was courting, he found that she was spending her time laughing and giggling and smiling at this same Austrian boy. This Beta who'd swooped out of nowhere to start working on claiming the heart of Elizaveta.

Gilbert could feel anger starting to ride over his emotions. Antonio and Romano were the only other ones at the table, and they were thoroughly engrossed in one another. It seems that whatever they'd been arguing about earlier had been resolved. Francis was off trying to explain himself to Matthew, who was having none of it. And so, Gilbert had no one to distract him from what was going on just across the cafeteria. So, naturally, when the lunch was over and Elizaveta stood to get to her next class, Gilbert was there, dragging her off somewhere in the school where they wouldn't be found out. Once they'd gotten there, and with a good deal of complaining and fighting on Elizaveta's part, he wheeled her around and caged her against the wall, extremely frustrated with her.

"Do your parents know about that one too?" he snarled out, his eyes flickering with fire. He wanted to know what was going on, what game she was playing. Why she was using Roderich, of all people, to make him jealous. "Do not turn this into a story about the heroine having two boys fight over her. I can't handle that. I won't put up with it. Goddammit, Eliza," he was losing it now. Eliza stood there, between his arms, half frightened, and half intrigued. His face was sweeping through a range of emotions, expressive in his vulnerability.

"Gilbert, that's nonsense," she finally spoke up, shaking her head. But his low growl had her regretting that word choice. "I don't like Roderich, not that way, for goodness's sake. And what does it matter to you anyway?" when she noticed that some of her words were having an effect, she dared to reach out and touch his jaw, brushing along the curve of his cheek until she reached his lips. "Gil, you can't read an Omega, can you?" she murmured absentmindedly, her eyes gazing with a glazed fascination at his features and his ruby eyes.

"You wonder why I don't want to accept you as my mate," she continued, shushing him as he tried to interrupt. "Well, when you figure it out, I promise you that I'll change my mind." And with that, she ducked out from under his arms and sidled off to class, leaving a confused Alpha behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks. Sorry for the chapter, it's really just more of a filler one. I promise that I'll actually develop a plot in the next one, and it will have a lot of things going down. Be excited, everybody! This'll be good. The next chapter should, hopefully, be up in a few days. Don't count on it though.


	7. A Letter of Complaint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this was originally an Editor to the Letter that I wrote for my history class. It was based around the time of the women's suffrage movement in America, before the Civil War in 1848. Obviously I changed a couple of words, men to Alpha, and women to Omega. Added his or her, and Bill Gates replaced George Washington. But I'm publishing this thing for several reasons. One, is to point out how similar this Omegaverse AU is to what was actually happening back in the days when women had little rights. Another, is to cause tension, and to get things moving in the fan fiction. A bold movement like this will have some Alphas at the school riled, and the fact that the school newspaper actually published it will cause even more consternation and anger. The final one is to start showing more about Elizaveta, to start having y'all connect with her a bit more. We've gotten Gilbert's privileged point of view. It's time to see things, even if it's an opinionated letter, from Elizaveta's perspective.

_"I know, up on top you are seeing great sights, but down here at the bottom we, too, should have rights."_

**―** **Dr. Seuss, _Yertle the Turtle and Gertrude Mcfuz_**

Dear Editor

**Re:**  "Should Omegas Have Rights?"

_August 2, 2014_

It is often more difficult for an Alpha to understand what it would be like to be an Omega. To watch one's property taken from them by the state; to watch the chance to learn fly by one's grasping fingers; to be incapable of doing anything but clean and cook after society's standards; to rely so heavily on another person.

An Omega cannot be independent of his or her Alpha mate, or of his or her father, in this age. But the Revolution was fought so that the Alphas of this country could live in their own freedom and independence, and so that their voices could be heard in the government, and they could make an impact on the lives of those who would follow their footsteps. Omegas were not included in this dream, so it seems.

No one seemed to remember that the reason there are Alphas to be soldiers, and Alphas to govern our country, and Alphas to preach, and Alphas to teach, is because of Omegas. We gave life to great, respected Alphas akin to the standards of Bill Gates, and Benjamin Franklin. We raised them when they were mere infants, and taught them to speak and to have morals; to always be trustworthy, and to hold themselves high.

As ignorant as we Omegas are played off to be, we have seen our own fair share of horrors at our homes, ranging from a bloodied knee to having to kill the pig for dinner. We are far from delicate, and we know how to make decisions just as well as the next Alpha.

As simple as an argument between two children is to settle, the truth is that many of the arguments taking place in Congress can very well be compared to a petty spat between two children. Both only see their point of view, and only want to see their point of view. We handle these squabbles with ease and dexterity, aware that on a grand scale of things, the problem is, more often than not, very minuscule, and hardly worth that night's dinner over.

One would think that, with our common sense and ability to learn, and our desire to achieve and prove the world wrong, we would make excellent candidates to throw our say into who we want for Congress, or for Head Alpha. We are not selfish, nor are we unselfish creatures, but we can't be entirely unaware.

Not all Omegas care for only their households. Not all mothers want to be only that; mothers. We can only be as unaware as our Alphas make us, and unless we are given our own rights, the chance to own our own property, and hold our own jobs, and receive our own paychecks, and keep all of our pay, we will have to continue to wait hand-and-foot on our Alphas, whether they be our children, fathers, or mates. We can educate ourselves when given the opportunity, but when we aren't given the opportunity, what then?

Elizaveta Héderváry

Gakuen High Junior Class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we are! And what does everybody think? Please leave comments, reviews, all of that good stuff. I really do love them. :3
> 
> Have a lovely weekend, my readers! Stay safe.


	8. A Yes and a Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, all of you, for your support of this story. You guys are the ones that keep me writing. So thank you for your compliments! c:
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia Franchise.

_"The test of whether or not you can hold a job should not be in the arrangement of your chromosomes."_

**―Bella Abzula**

Elizaveta, though she'd hate to admit it, was slowly warming up to Gilbert. As the weeks progressed in the school year, leading into the colder, autumn days of October, she was even beginning to look forward to her mornings. She could always count on Gilbert being there, with a smile on his face, and some useless thing to tell her. He was making more of a conscious effort to win her over than she'd thought he would, that was for sure. He would generally carry her things, and walk with her to her class, and get lunch for her, and save her seats. He was being, quite literally, a perfect gentleman. And it was this change in attitude that made her nervous, because all good things must come to an end. This easy comfort with each other couldn't possibly last for very long. And she'd never hated being right more than she did after her letter was released by Francis in the school newspaper.

She fiercely fought off the huge dive her heart took when she saw that her white-haired Alpha wasn't waiting for her at the doors to the school. She had to continue to fight this sinking feeling as she went through the day with no sight of him, other than seeing his falsely angelic head hidden in a group of friends, or catching a flash of those red eyes glancing her way in the hallways. But other than that, there was nothing else. No contact, no words. He was angry with her, but he wasn't doing what she'd expected him to. He wasn't being confrontational, he was being sulky, and containing his vexation; and she didn't doubt that he was crossed. No, he was much too traditional to not be furious.

When the end of the day rolled around and she was closing her locker after putting her stuff up, she was greeted with the startling appearance of the one boy she'd been stuck thinking about the entire day; Gilbert. He was leaning against the locker next to hers, hidden by the open door. When she closed hers, he was there, gazing at her with a solemn remoteness. She swallowed, a tingle stretching down her body and into her toes. Things were not going to go well, though for which one of them, she could not tell.

"Elizaveta," said Gilbert, not using her nickname. That stung.

"Gilbert," she responded, choosing to acknowledge him with the same kind of detachment he was treating her.

"Would you like to join me for a walk?" he asked her, still being a gentleman, though this extent of it was giving her the creeps. Something was up.

"I suppose I have nothing better to do," she muttered, accepting his proffered arm as they began walking. She was wearing a long dress today, gold and white stripes running diagonally from right shoulder to left hip, and then on the skirt, a white color with black and gray flowers dotting the surface. It was unconventional, different, and it suited her perfectly. Gilbert, however, was wearing some casual khaki shorts and a blood-red shirt, matching the color of his eyes. It made his skin look paler.

As they walked in silence, Elizaveta began to wonder if posting her opinion like that was perhaps a bit too rash. She shouldn't have done something so out there, so spontaneous and different. Omegas were avoiding her like the plague, scared of approaching such a radical. Alphas were giving her dirty looks. It seemed that the only friend she had left was Gilbert, and she wasn't even sure if she could count him as a friend anymore.

"Why did you do it?" he asked her, staring straight ahead, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in a nervous swallow. He was different from the regular, enthusiastic, energetic, full-of-himself Gil. This one was serious, down to earth, business-y. She wasn't sure how to approach this side of him.

"It was the right thing to do," she said, obstinate and unwilling to admit that she may have introduced a concept to a bunch of high schoolers that was above the majority of their heads. Not even regular society would take her ideas in a correct way, much less a thoroughly segregated high school.

"I don't think it was,  _Engel_ ," responded Gilbert, not even realizing that he'd used his pet name for her. It warmed her heart that he was so used to calling her Angel, it just fell off his tongue without a second thought.

"And what would you know, oh great and mighty Alpha?" she responded, sarcastic in her insecurity. She should have built her audience and followers up before doing something like that letter, given them something to fight for, and some courage. But who was she kidding? She could barely control herself around Gilbert, and she wasn't even his mate. Courage be damned when it came to Alphas, they had an unfair amount of control over their Omega counterparts.

"What would I know?" said Gilbert, finally turning to look at her, bringing them both to a stop. "What would I know? I will tell you what I know, _Dummkopf_ , and that is that you do not go changing the natural order of things," he snapped, his voice rising. It was clear that whatever careful control he'd maintained over himself was slowly slipping.

"Sometimes the 'natural order of things' isn't' so natural, Gilbert! Why don't you understand that we are meant to be equal, all of us, Alphas, Betas, Omegas, everyone!" she was exasperated, and at a loss as to what to do. How was she supposed to convince this boy who had been raised with only one belief, only one mindset, of something different? She almost felt sorry for him, if he wasn't such a presumptuous bastard.

Gilbert's face flew through a variety of emotions, the few she was able to identify were righteous indignation, frustration, and confusion. "What else am I supposed to think, Eliza? This is how things have been, this is how things should always be. Omegas are happy, Alphas are happy, Betas are happy. Don't mess with the perfect system that we have going," he nearly begged her, surprising her with his desperation.

When she didn't respond to him, just kept that same inflexible, set to her jaw, he seemed to snap, gripping her forearms in an almost too tight hold. "Why aren't you listening to me?" he hissed through gritted teeth, shaking her slightly. " _Verdammt_ , woman, you drive me insane," he muttered, dropping his head so that it fell to her shoulder. She was confused, wondering what on Earth was going on with Gilbert. Was he okay? Did she break him?

"Be mine," he muttered suddenly, randomly against her dress, making her heart quicken. She'd ached to hear those words, but at the same time, they went against what she believed in. She didn't want to be his property. She wanted to be his equal, his mate, but not his. No, never just his. Her life belonged to herself and herself only, not the next Alpha to step into it. She wasn't a piece of furniture to own, she was a human being as well.

"Gilbert, I-" she broke off, her voice catching, "what are you doing? Why are you being like this? What has gotten into you?" she finally spilled out, working valiantly to push him off of her, not an easy task.

"You know that I want you as my mate, Elizaveta," said Gilbert, using every bit of pleading that he could eek out of himself to smile forlornly up at her. He could only hope that his ploy worked. "I want you to be my mate, to be mine. You are beautiful, and talented, and so many things that I am not. I need you." It wasn't like these words were lies, every letter of them was true. But, he had an ultimate goal for getting her to admit that she would be his, his mate. If he could get her to agree to him, then he could show the Omega population of the school that they were still very much beneath their Alpha mates. It was a nasty trick, but he felt it had to be done. Rebellion of this nature would not, could not stand.

Elizaveta was torn, it was quite obvious in the worrying of her bottom lip between her teeth, and the flicking of her eyes. She didn't know what to do, agree to be his, or disagree on principle of her beliefs?

After a long enough moment of hesitation, Gil decided that he should probably urge things along. He did need to get home sometime soon, or his parents would get huffy. And besides, Ludwig and Feliciano were at his house. He had to make sure nothing got broken. So, he stepped closer to her, collecting one of her tanner hands in the grip of one of his pale ones, and raised it to his lips, kissing the back before flipping her hand to press individual kisses on the pads of her fingertips and on the veined, crinkled palm of her hand. He could hear her slight inhalation of breath, and his lips kicked into an honest smile, curving on her skin. He was more than happy that he had this effect on her.

"Gil…" she said finally, prompting him to look up at her, his eyes a torch of hope. "I can't…" she stopped, turmoil clouding her eyes. "Yes. Fine, _igen_. I'll be yours. But you still have a lot more work to do. I will not let you mark me yet." She said, immediately reverting back to a high-and-mighty attitude as she saw the victorious grin spread across his face.

"Of course, but first, I want to do something that I have been dying to do for ages," he said, perplexing her for a minute before she found that she was once more pressed against him, her hips brushing lightly against his, their torsos grazing each other through the clothes that each was wearing. Her breath rose and caught as one callused hand rose to brush along the side of her face, tracing down the length of her jaw before a thumb circled back up and over her chin to press lightly against her semi-parted lips. Gilbert was intense in his study, in his touching and mapping. He had waited to do this, for much, much, much too long. Finally, after he felt that the tension was enough, he dipped his head and kissed her.

It was soft, gentle, and adoring; and it was everything that Elizaveta had wanted out of her first kiss. She was scared at first, the feeling of his lips on hers strange and foreign, but she soon got over it, reacting off of instinct as he pressed her tighter to him, their bodies meshing. Her hands found their way up to the broad planes of his shoulders, and then around to cup and link together behind his neck. His hands had settled firmly on her hips, messing along the waist line of her dress. She smiled against his lips, knowing that he was probably cursing her for not wearing a shirt and skirt or pants today.

When they finally parted, it was with flushed, pleased faces and shy smiles. Gilbert was proud, that much was obvious, and content. Elizaveta was surprised, pleased, and excited. This was a new step into something big, she was sure. She pushed her thoughts about equal rights aside, forcing herself to just enjoy this sweet moment for what it was worth.

After a couple more exchanged kisses, Gilbert took her back home, bowing politely at her father as she opened the door, before disappearing off to his own house. Elizaveta could feel her mother's suspicious gaze, those Omega eyes not missing a thing, as detail-prone as they were.

"Elizaveta," said Aranka, her mother, "why on Earth are you smiling so much,  _drágám_?" she was wearing a gentle, neutral smile. Elizaveta hated it when she wore that smile, it always made her so difficult to read.

"I accepted Gil today," she said, after making sure that her father, Etel, was out of the room. She didn't think that she would take it that well. Not so soon anyway.

" _Mi_?!" Hungarian, rapid and cropped, began to stream out of her mother's mouth as she hugged her precious Omega daughter to herself, laughing and petting and kissing both of her little girl's cheeks. "Oh, I am so proud of you, honey, an Alpha mate for you!" she called, completely un-Omega like in her obvious, loud exuberance. But, Elizaveta knew that her father wouldn't have her mother any other way.

The chestnut-haired, ivy-eyed Hungarian girl was blushing up a storm at her mother's excitement. It really wasn't that big of a deal, not in her opinion anyway. "And I published that letter I wrote about Omega's rights," she found herself saying, before her eyes widened and regret washed through her stance. The happy laughter and joy bubbling out of her mother immediately drowned, leaving nothing but a serious expression in their wake.

"You did what?" she said slowly, her voice making a surprising shift to a quiet, covert whisper. "I'm going to have to get your father, aren't I? Elizaveta, we talked about this! You cannot make such large jumps in places. That is not how these things work." She was scolding, harsh, but necessarily so. Her daughter was going to get herself killed, and mateless, if she kept along this downward slope.

"But  _Anya_ , it's not fair!" she complained loudly, only to receive a harsh cuff around her ear in response.

"Etel!" called Aranka, her troubled eyes roaming over her pretty, stubborn daughter. "Etel, come here!" she called again after a minute or two of no reaction.

The female alpha marched into the room, a look of disgruntled impatience garnishing her face. " _Istenem_ , what is it?" she snapped, looking around the room. Her agitation quickly melted, however, at the sober expressions of her daughter and mate. "What has happened?"

"Your daughter got the letter she wrote published in the paper," said Aranka in response, her eyes cutting submissively to the floor. She knew that Etel was about to get very angry, very fast, and she didn't want to challenge an Alpha when they were particularly incensed.

"You did what?" said Etel, turning to her daughter with gritted teeth and hazel eyes that held a seething pit of disappointment, anger, and frustration.

"Elizaveta! We explicitly told you not to do such a thing! I thought I raised a good Omega, one that can defend herself, but knows when to be deferential," she was being rather tyrannical, she would own that, but she had to. She was the Alpha of this household, and her Omega daughter was not listening to her. "You could get this family killed, Eliza. What were you thinking, you stupid, stupid girl," she hissed, now beginning to pace. "I'll have to see what I can do with the school to smooth any ruffled feathers over. I can't help you with your friends, though I'd be surprised if you had any after this fiasco," she sent her a quick, disapproving glare, interrupting the younger Hungarian girl as Elizaveta tried to interrupt and defend herself.

At Elizaveta's broken, shame-filled expression, she softened. " _Drágám_ , I know you meant well. I know that you are trying to make a difference in the world, but you can't. You are an Omega. I don't want you to be a demure, boring little thing, but you can't change this world. You just can't." She shooed her off. "Now, get up to your room. Your mother will bring dinner up to you. Oh, and I'll be having your phone," she held out an expectant hand, waiting until her reluctant teenage daughter plopped the heavy metal rectangle in her anticipatory palm.

Once her daughter had disappeared up the stairs, the dark-skinned, female Alpha turned to her mate, tugging Aranka into he arms. "I don't know what to do with her," she mumbled, pressing her nose into her mate's hair to help calm herself down back to the earlier, neutral levels. Aranka's caramel arms wound around her mate's torso as she pushed her face into her shoulder.

"She'll learn. Our girl is special, Etel. She's going to have to learn how to blend in. Oh, and she decided to accept Gilbert as her mate," she said suddenly, saying the last sentence as quickly as possible so as to get that particular piece of information out-of-the-way. Etel froze before sighing and finally releasing Aranka.

"I suppose that calls for two family dinners, doesn't it? One with his parents, and one with us. I wonder how the Beilschmidt's are reacting to our little girl's letter. Not very well, I bet." Aranka's chuckle was the only answer she got to that, before her mate returned to the dinner that she was preparing, and Etel, after dropping a kiss to her mate's lips, returned to her office.

When Gilbert got home, things were a little similar, and a little different. His father was pissed, as he seemed to always be these days, and his mother was worriedly wringing her hands together, her icy blue eyes gazing with a great deal of concern at her puffing mate.

"The insolence of it all! Gilbert, you still want to pursue this Omega?" snapped the tall German, his long yellow hair tied back in a ponytail that slid down his muscled back. Gilbert nodded his head slowly. "The nerve…" and with that, Alfher had slipped into German. Gilbert chose not to stick around for that, preferring instead to go up to his room.

When he passed Ludwig and Feliciano's bedroom, the room they would be residing in until they moved into their own apartment or house, he was greeted with the awkward sight of watching Feliciano drawing a sleeping Ludwig. He paused there, loitering in the doorway, watching the lines and shapes spiraling out on the paper that Feliciano was using. No doubt the boy would transfer it to some pretentious tapestry, paint it, and then have it framed for their future home. But it was a nice looking drawing, all the same, not even Gilbert could deny that.

Feliciano had been growing on him the past few weeks, brightening up the generally dour, intense atmosphere of the Beilschmidt home. Yes, there were times when Gilbert wanted to punt the Italian right back on over to the Vargas household, but he was getting more tolerable. His drawing skills were phenomenal, and secretly Gilbert hoped that Feliciano would draw him one day before he left with Ludwig to his new life. But he was much too macho to ever specifically ask for a portrait, so he eventually moved on to his room, collapsing on his bed, and flipping onto his back.

He'd tell his father about Elizaveta when the man cooled down. It would be a bad idea to bring anything up now. But he was itching to tell someone. He couldn't tell Ludwig because A) The boy was asleep, and B) He would tell Feliciano, who would be unable to keep his blathering mouth closed and would consequently tell the entire school. His friends were out of commission until the following Monday, as his phone was still father's possession. Apparently the training room debacle wouldn't be forgotten very easily. But at least now, he'd quelled a bit of that crazy Omega rights side of Eliza. He'd gotten her to agree to being his. It was a start of a very long journey, but he was sure he could win this war.

Both the Hungarian and the German, but secretly believing himself to be Prussian, boy went to bed that night with full bellies and aching hearts. They wanted to see each other, and they wanted to go back and change things they'd done in their past. But there is a reason that people say you must look towards the future, because if you're not careful, the past will repeat itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so what did we think? Leave a review, if you like doing that. If you don't, then that's totally cool too. I'm generality too chicken to leave reviews too, so I have no right to judge any of y'all who prefer to read and smile and laugh in your own world. xD
> 
> I hope all of y'all enjoyed! The next chapter will be up in a week.


	9. A Dinner at the Beilschmidt's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia franchise.

_"A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you."  
_

_**―Elbert Hubbard** _

As Halloween drew near, the school began to release flyers advertising a school dance. When Gilbert found one of the handouts, he fairly whooped in the hallway, jumping in the air with his fist pumped. He'd been dying for a dance along this sort of theme, anything to dress up in fantastic costumes. And the Omegas who are in charge of the dances, one of the only positions of power open to an Omega in the school, had answered his call.

As he sprinted off, alive and jittery with adrenaline, to find Eliza, the flyer slipped out of his hand, floating slowly to the tiled floor of the Alpha hallway. On it, was written the following:

**Calling all countries to our Halloween dance of 2013, dress up, and play your part as the personification of the country you so adore.**

**Be in the gymnasium at 6:30 on October 25, Friday night for a fabulous preamble to the most anticipated night of the year, Halloween.**

A pumpkin was stuck to the middle of the flyer, leering up at the viewer in an attempt to impart creepy cheer. The school was buzzing by the end of the day, exclamations of 'I'm going to be Latvia!' or 'I call Denmark!' zipping about the hallways. Laughter and chatter was everywhere, and the debacle from the previous week involving Elizaveta and her equal rights letter had practically been erased.

Gilbert, upon finding his future mate, had swept her into an overenthusiastic hug, spinning her about as he buried his face in her shoulder, his arms looped under hers. He was laughing, and judging by her lack of complaint, she was well aware of what he was so pleased about. When he finally put her back down, she gazed up at him, her green eyes shining, a small smile quirking her mouth.

"I'm guessing that you found the flyer?" she asked, the words tripping off of her tongue in sharp, succinct syllables. Gilbert's response was an even wider grin before he swooped down to kiss her, catching the Hungarian by surprise.

"Bless you,  _Engel,_ I did!" he chirped, pulling away just enough to press his forehead to hers. "Which country are you going as?"

"Hungary," she replied automatically, her tiny smile slowly growing into a larger beam, leaching off of the enthusiasm that Gilbert was leaking. "And you? Although I think I can already guess…" she trailed off, letting Gilbert have the joy of crowing the obvious country that he would want to be to the ceilings.

"I am going as the awesome country of Prussia!" Gil said, with all the gusto that Eliza had expected.

"The dance is in a couple of days, you do know that right?" she asked him, her fingers moving of their own volition as they worked through the hair that was sticking up at radical angles on the top of his head. His jittery hands had mussed up what had been a nice enough hair do earlier in the day.

"Psh, the awesome me is so ready for this awesome dance," he said, waving his hand in an assured way.

Elizaveta rolled her eyes, dry sarcasm in her next few words. "Ah, yes, how could I forget that the awesome Gilbert has been waiting for this for weeks."

Her faint insult flew over Gil's oblivious head. "I'm too important for you to forget anything about me, my darling mate," he responded, laughing and kissing the scrunched spot between her eyes as she glared at his term for her.

"I'm not your mate yet, let's not forget that,  _idióta_."

Gil shrugged. "Your heat is coming up in a week or so. There will be no doubt who you belong to then," he told her, his voice receding down to levels that were smooth, even for Gilbert's rough voice. Whenever he got excited, as he had been not two seconds earlier, that husky voice would start cracking, unable to keep up the waves of cheer that Gilbert was trying to coax from it.

Eliza's mouth dried, her throat working for a moment before she scoffed and pulled out of Gil's arms, which were still wrapped comfortably about her waist. "Nonsense. I'm not 'yours,' Gil," she said, putting little quotation marks around the 'yours.' "I will be your mate, your equal. Not some silly little possession." She sniffed and turned her head to gaze at the milling students. She could feel Gilbert's disapproving stare, and sense his impending retaliation, but she didn't plan to stick around for it.

"Well, Roderich agreed to walk me home, so you have no obligations to this afternoon." She stood on her tiptoes, pressed a quick kiss to Gil's lips, and slipped away before he could say anything in protest to her being with the insufferable Austrian.

With his previously good mood severely dampened, he looked for some other way to entertain himself. His father's restrictions were slowly loosening, leaving him room to breathe and spend a bit of time doing things after school. His red eyes alit on Francis and Matthew. Slowly, he meandered over to the two, his hands stuffing themselves into his pockets.

Matthew seemed to be struggling to get an idea across in an angry fashion, his fists clenching at his sides, his face pinching, but the same soft tone streaming out of his taut mouth. Gilbert could tell that Francis was having a hard time deciding whether he wanted to laugh or keep a straight face. Gil was pretty sure that the latter would work more in his favor than the former.

Sliding next to his French friend, Gilbert leaned his head on Francis's shoulder, his white hair brushing against the man's cheek. The Frenchman absently reached up to brush his fingers down Gilbert's hair, smoothing the rogue strands down. The two were unusually close, but it was so unheard of for Alpha's to be in a romantic relationship that no one really went there with their assumptions on them. Gilbert doubted that he'd ever admit to the fact that he'd slept with Francis on more than one occasion. And the same could be said of Antonio. Basically, the trio had all gotten a little friendlier with each other than 'just friends' would define.

Tuning into the conversation, he vaguely managed to figure out what it was about. Matthew was angry with Francis for not telling him about his past with other Omegas and Betas. Francis was insisting that he was just ashamed, and that he hadn't touched anyone but Matthew since he'd met the Canadian. But Matthew, justly, wasn't having any of it. Gilbert couldn't help the hitch to his mouth as Francis successfully and adroitly dug himself into a hole. It was quite stunning, really, the speed at which he managed it. Matthew went to slightly upset to trembling, and then to just flat-out leaving the conversation within the span of five minutes. Francis was swearing frustratedly under his breath in French as Gilbert chuckled, his head still placed on his friend's shoulder.

Glaring at the insolence of the German boy laughing at him, he rather cruelly pulled at Gil's white hair strands, earning himself a satisfying yelp from the injured person. Giving him a smug grin, and being gifted a huffy glare in response, they both simultaneously turned to find the missing member of their trio.

It didn't take long. One only had to follow the angry hissing of Italian to quickly find their unfortunate Spanish friend. Neither of them could understand Italian, but body language was more than enough. Lovino was irritatedly beating off every one of Antonio's affectionate gesture. Gilbert truly felt bad for the Spaniard, seeing the pain reflecting in those large, green, generally happy eyes. He could hear Francis shuffling uncomfortably next to him, clearing his throat.

But before either of them could do anything, Lovino seemed to have a radical change of heart. His hands fisted into the Spaniard's shirt, clenching the soft fabric. Their faces were then pressed together, lips on lips, and Francis and Gilbert rather quickly decided to abandon their friend to the passions of love. It took Francis a bit to turn away from the scene, a bit smidge of urging from Gil, but eventually they were on their way.

Walking down the close to empty halls, they both mulled over their own days.

For Francis, things had started out okay. Matthew had warmed up a bit that morning, even approaching him, and muttering something about meeting him at lunch. The rest of the day was a painful waiting period until lunch, and then he managed to make some form of ground over both of their cafeteria turkey sandwiches. The only thing that really puzzled Francis was the sweeping change that took over his Canadian Omega at the end of the day. They'd gone from laughing, and joking, and hesitant touches to Matthew suddenly starting to snap at him, his round face flaming with straining anger. And then Gilbert had walked in, and Matthew walked away not long after that.

Gilbert's day had been perfectly fine. Well, almost. It had been a week since Eliza had accepted him, and they were getting into more and more arguments about Omega's places and Alpha's places in a relationship. Eliza tried to take control more than Gilbert wanted her to. It was a constant tug o' war of power between the two, and unfortunately they were both fairly headstrong. But that morning she'd been sweet, and obedient, and had allowed him to initiate a kiss. Their familiar routine swung easily into sequence, with Gilbert walking her to her classes. At lunch, she allowed him to take her tray, something she'd been fighting against with a savage determination all week. She sat very close to him, her head resting on his shoulder once she finished with her lunch. She didn't ask to go to the training room with him to train. She was perfect. Until that passing comment at the end of the day, but he could pardon small slights like that. Without his realizing it, Elizaveta was slowly, slowly changing his perspective.

"So which country are you going to be,  _Franzmann_?" asked Gil, breaking their mulling silence.

"Ah, France _, bien sûr_!" Responded his friend, perking up considerably from his previously dour mood. But then again Francis was always tuned into anything that directly involved himself. "And you,  _mon ami?"_

"Prussia, obviously," stated Gilbert with a bland intonation. "I am Prussian after all."

Francis scoffed, but didn't bother debating the issue.

"So, what's to do today, hm?"

"Oh,  _je ne sais pas_. It is up to you,  _vraiment."_ Responded his friend, scuffing his feet on the sidewalk as they finally stepped into the light of day, leaving the dank halls of their school building.

"Well, if you must say that the awesome me can choose, than so be it. Let's go get ice cream," he said quickly, without requiring any thought.

Francis looked surprised before an affectionate, wistful expression took over. "Ah, do you remember when we'd go out to get ice cream every day after school?" he murmured, the aching tone of nostalgia clogging his voice.

" _Ja,_  and I also remember that you were a huge fan of red velvet because it, 'is the color of passion.'" Mocked Gil, grinning teasingly at his friend. They'd fallen into their familiar pattern of comfort.

"Ah, not so fast their, Gilbert. I do believe that you were fond of birthday cake because, and I quote, you 'were so awesome that every day might as well be' your 'birthday.'" Laughed Francis, grinning playfully at Gilbert's scoff of un-acknowledgement.

"Well, let's not forget Antonio's. What did he like again, gelato something? I remember because he always said it reminded him of Lovino."

Francis hummed in response, his attention only half taken as they stepped into the ice cream shop, the little bell over the door ringing to announce their arrival. The Alpha that ran the shop grinned over at the two, setting down the rag he was using to clean the counter to lean his elbows on its polished surface and peer at the two twelfth grade boys. "Well, I say, it has been a while since I've seen the two of you," he said, his vaguely Italian accent peeking out from beneath the tanned skin, brown eyes, and brown hair of his exterior. Sighing, Gilbert finally remembered that his father had specifically asked him never to go to the ice cream joint again because the Alpha who ran it, Romulus, was Feliciano and Lovino's grandfather, and rumors floated around that he was off his rocker. Every now and then he'd break into random songs, a phenomenon that would make Feliciano laugh, if the Italian happened to be around, but would have everyone else vaguely concerned and considering different homes to place the crazy old man in.

Sucking it up, he managed a smile. "Ah, you know, high school," he said, waving his hand vaguely in the air to indicate some nondescript answer. Romulus just raised an eyebrow at him and stood straight.

" _Beh_ , what would you two like?" he asked, a merry twinkle hidden in those half-crazed, half-wise eyes.

Francis stepped eagerly forward, shouldering Gilbert out-of-the-way. "I'll have red velvet if you don't mind," he stated, gazing eagerly at the viciously red ice cream behind the glass. Gilbert feigned gagging, earning himself a punch from Francis. The frenchman received his ice cream and paid for it in record time.

It was then Gilbert's turn, and he stepped forward and ordered the birthday cake ice cream. As usual. He wanted to reconnect with something in his past, get a little of that old stability and confidence back. Elizaveta, though he was fond of her, shook him up in more ways than one. He needed to calm his frantic nerves.

Romulus put together and handed over the ice cream to Gilbert, who paid rapidly as well. Afterwards, the duo bid the Italian man adieu and departed the little shop, licking languidly at the frozen foods.

"So what got Matthew whipped into such a frenzy?" said Gilbert finally.

Francis sighed and recounted his day up until that point. "…and then, I don't know what happened. One minute, he was content and was even letting me hold his hand, and then the next he was upset with me!" he was obviously still dismayed about the scenario, even with the temporary distraction of red velvet ice cream in his hand.

"Francis, do you think he's nearing his heat?" asked Gilbert randomly, recalling a month ago when Elizaveta had gotten strangely volatile.

Francis bristled. "What does it matter to you?" he snapped, his protective Alpha instincts snapping awake.

Gilbert backed away from the prickling Alpha, his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "I'm just asking because Eliza's like that around the time of her heat. Jesus, no need to get so affronted," he complained, eventually walking back over to his friend once he'd calmed down.

Francis looked sheepish. " _Mes apologies_ , Gilbert. I should not have done that," he said, one of the only Alphas who was actually capable of apologizing. Gil was faintly impressed and surprised at this more submissive side of Francis.

"Since when did you start apologizing? That is so un-awesome," he stated, as articulate as ever.

"Mathieu," stated Francis with a dreamy smile. "He has opened my eyes to several things, Gilbert. You must open yours too, if you hope to keep a hold of your spitfire Omega," he half-teased, half-warned.

Now it was Gilbert's turn to bristle. "And what do you mean by that? Are you thinking of trying to take her away from me?"

" _Mon Dieu,_ I would never," defended Francis immediately, licking nonchalantly at his ice cream once more. "I am just warning you,  _mon ami allemand._  She will not hang around forever."

With that, they parted their separate ways, Francis going left and Gilbert right.

Stepping into his house, Gilbert peered about at the clean, pristine place. It was nothing like Eliza's comfortable atmosphere, or Francis's ridiculously overdone home, or even Antonio's cultural environment. Gilbert's home was sparse, clean to a T, and very simple. His father loved it that way, his mother was fine with it, and his opinion didn't matter. Nor did his brother's, for that matter. Not that Ludwig looked to be the type to want anything different, an issue that Gilbert was sure the younger Beilschmidt would have with his Vargas mate in the near future. The Vargas's were very far from sparse, and simple, and clean. They were just as cultured as Antonio, rich in history.

Sighing, Gil slid his backpack to the ground, continuing to eat his ice cream as he walked into the living room, snagging the landline from its place on the side table by the sofa, and throwing himself across the piece of furniture. Quickly, he dialed Elizaveta's number, waiting impatiently to hear her voice, or at least her father's or mother's so that he could speak with her. But no one picked up.

Crinkling his brow, he set the phone down on his stomach, polishing off the rest of his ice cream, and clicked on the TV. He didn't have anything better to do at the moment, and it looked as if he had the house practically to himself. He could only assume that his father was off at his job as a swordsmith, his mother might be asleep in the master bedroom, and Feliciano and Ludwig were no doubt home hunting.

As the stupid show involving what appeared to be a sponge and a starfish flashed across the screen, Gilbert let his eyelids slide shut, and before he knew it, he was waking up, a good three hours after he'd first lain down.

His father was standing over him, a disapproving frown hardening his face.

"Gilbert, why are you napping?" he reprimanded, pulling the twelfth year boy up by his arm. Wincing, Gil pulled his arm out of Alfher's grip, shaking the numb skin. He had rolled over at some point in his sleep so that the arm had sandwiched itself beneath him, and it was just now waking up along side its owner.

"Because I was tired," Gil replied, giving his father a deadpan expression before stepping away from him. "So I'll just be going up to my room now," he said, hoping against hope that his father would have nothing more to say to him. But, unfortunately for Gilbert, he hadn't wished quite enough.

Gilbert Beilschmidt, you get over here. We're having guests, and you need to get more presentable than that. In addition, pick up your backpack. Yes, your mother may clean this house, but that doesn't mean that you need to make any more of a mess for her than is necessary." Growling huffily, Gil turned, scooped his backpack up and was halfway up the stairs before he paused and looked behind him.

"Question," he said, one finger raised, "who's coming over?"

"The Hédérvarys," said his father before disappearing into the kitchen where Gil's mom was, presumably, cooking.

His heart now going a good bit faster, Gilbert ran his way up the stairs and threw his backpack against the wall, winging the closet doors open. It was about seven o'clock now, and though that did still give him a good three hours before their meal started, he wanted to look his best.

His ruby eyes scrolled through the different hanging outfits. He knew that this would be a formal affair, so there wasn't too much concern about being overdressed. Reaching forward, he tentatively ran his fingers over a suit. It was a little more casual than a tuxedo, thank God, and it would do perfectly. It was a misty gray one, with a light blue shirt and brown belt and shoes to go with it.

Once that decided, Gilbert went over and pulled out some of his homework. It would be tedious, but he could manage it. Hopefully. Sighing, he buckled down to the task.

About an hour or two later, he was putting the papers up, dumping the pens and pencils back in the front pocket of the backpack, and skidding over to his closet. He took the suit from the rack, understanding that he was now a little pressed for time, as it was 9:45 and he'd found out earlier from his father that they were to come over at 10:00. But he could manage it.

Within about ten minutes, he was clean and ready to go. The suit fit him perfectly, making a nice line across his broad shoulders and complimenting his generally pale skin nicely, making it look at least a little darker. Straightening himself in the mirror, he disappeared down the stairs, shutting the door to his bedroom behind him.

When he got to the main floor, a bouncing, jabbering Feliciano greeted him. Groaning, and already feeling the faint traces of a headache, Gilbert shoved his way past the over-excited Italian and made his way into the kitchen, where delicious smells were fairly wafting out the door. Slipping up behind his mother, he attempted to reach around and snag a piece of the freshly baked bread that she had out cooling, but his hand was effectively slapped away at the behest of a wooden spoon. Yelping, and now nursing an aching hand, he backed away from the food, ignoring the fond smile gracing his mother's lips as she looked proudly over her strong Alpha son.

Deciding to abandon the very aggressive kitchen, Gilbert succumbed himself to a few minutes of pain. Ludwig was trying his best to get Feliciano to calm down, but to no avail, and though he threw apologetic looks at his brother, he found no forgiveness in those eyes. Only annoyance and a  _You'd better find a house soon._

Right about the point where Gilbert was pretty sure he was going to commit a murder, the doorbell rang. Springing to his feet, he called an 'I'll get it' before heading over to the door.

Pulling it open, the Prussian boy's eyes first landed on Elizaveta. And he had an awfully hard time pulling them away and opening the door further so that she and her parents could enter the house. His father greeted them, but Gilbert said nothing, his eyes immediately gravitating back towards his Omega.

Elizaveta looked stunning in an intensely blue strapless dress. A ribbon of a slightly lighter shade was tied around her waist, ending in a perfect little bow on her right side. Her hair glossed and curled, makeup applied strategically, and a pair of light blue heels to match. Those heels raised her closer to Gilbert's height, and the boy took the opportunity to bend and kiss his mate-to-be.

After a moment, and an awkward cough from Ludwig, the two pulled apart. Elizaveta tsked at Gilbert before turning to smile softly at her Alpha's younger brother. "Ludwig, it's nice to see you again," she said, turning her green eyes to the Italian boy sitting practically in Ludwig's lap. "And you, Feliciano," she said, laughing as the excitable Omega jumped up and twirled happily about.

" _Buonasera_ , Elizaveta!"

" _Guten Abend_ ," said Ludwig, his voice a good deal calmer than his mate's.

Elizaveta laughed, letting Gilbert guide her over to the sofa in the living room. She sat down where he gestured her, and then he took a seat next to her. Automatically, they both reached for each other's hands and entwined fingers, Gilbert's thumb resting over hers, and rubbing gently up and down the soft skin there.

"So, Ludwig," initiated Elizaveta, "have you and Feliciano found a house yet?" she knew that she was being perhaps a little bold by not leaving Gilbert to ask the questions, but she didn't care. Ludwig looked surprised and gave his brother a suspicious look before responding to her.

"Ah, not quite, Miss Hédérvary. We're still looking, but I'm sure we'll find it someday." Elizaveta nodded, not bothering to correct Ludwig using 'Miss' with her. He was always so formal.

Finally, she turned to talk to Feliciano, something more appropriate for an Omega to do, and let Gilbert and Ludwig make their own conversation.

By the time dinner was ready, she'd gotten Feliciano to agree to paint her a portrait of Gilbert, and then one of herself, and then one of them together. The Eleventh year Omega was really just too happy to please most people, even though Gilbert terrified him, as most things did.

The four of them had been called to the dining room, and a fantastic array of food greeted them. Mrs. Hédérvary's food accompanied Mrs. Beilschmidt's spectacularly, so there was an array of German and Hungarian adorning the center of the table. It had Gilbert salivating at the sight. A small bowl of pasta had been put off to the side for Feliciano, as the Italian wouldn't enjoy meals without the mandatory pasta.

The eight people settled down, conversation nonexistent for an awkward few minutes of the dinner. Food was served, picked at, eaten, and picked at some more. Finally, Elizaveta's father spoke up, her voice ringing across the silent space.

"Mr. Beilschmidt, I am to correctly believe that you are content with our children being mated?" she asked, aware that she was doing this in an unnaturally public setting, but not much caring. Alfher's eyes narrowed at the lack of formality, but he couldn't blame the female Alpha for long. There was merit to bringing something so serious up in front of the family. It gave a bit more of a consensus, even though there were only four Alphas at the table.

"Yes, that would be a correct presumption, Mr. Hédérvary, but please, call me Alfher. We're going to be in-law's soon." He tried, and failed at making a joke. His countenance was too serious. Ludwig shared this unfortunate lack of experience at making a joke.

Etel managed a wan smile. "Yes, call me Etel, if you don't mind," she said. Gilbert was peering between the two older Alphas with the amusement of a twelfth year in his eyes.

Elizaveta saw this laughter and had to hide her smirk by bowing her head so that she was looking at the table.

Once that conversation was over, things were a bit more easily breached. Gilbert's attention was one hundred percent focused on his Omega, and vice versa. Alfher and Etel continued speaking about their children's future, Aranka and Amelina had shallow conversation about the latest gossip, and Feliciano and Ludwig successfully wrapped themselves up in their own little world, though this may be more in part to Feliciano complaining about there being no more pasta than it would be to real, deep conversation.

"How many children would you want,  _Engel?"_ asked Gilbert, pushing his finished plate away from him to place his elbows on the table and lean closer towards his soon-to-be.

Elizaveta paused a moment, sipping at her glass of water, thinking. "I think that one or two would be a good number," she said, noticing Gilbert's nose wrinkle. A sigh came over her as she reversed the question back to the Alpha.

"Well, I think three, or maybe even four would be perfect," supplied Gilbert.

Elizaveta coughed, wheezing and pounding on her chest."Excuse me? I'm the one giving birth to them, not you," she said, her audacity making Gilbert want to strangle her.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," he reasoned, but she wasn't having any of it.

"Respect my wishes, Gilbert, and I might be open for a compromise," she snapped, not budging in her stance against three or four children.

Gilbert glowered at her, not wanting to have to compromise with an Omega. But Elizaveta's stoney expression had him eventually moving towards that option.

"Fine, how about three?" he asked her. She shook her head. Growling, he took up his own water-glass and took a sip to calm his seething nerves. "Two."

Elizaveta's eyes brightened. "See? That wasn't so bad," she patronized, reaching forward to pat the top of Gilbert's hand. The moody hood to his eyes vaporized at her touch.

The rest of the dinner passed in much the same way, questions about their future being posed and answered. Elizaveta was content with a smaller house. She wanted to have at least one pet, and to be able to hold a job after the children were grown.

Gilbert didn't much care what kind of house they had, so long as it was more welcoming than his current one. He wanted a German Shepherd and a bird, if they were going to get pets, and he was adamant that Elizaveta not hold a job.

Things got tense right about there, but the dinner ended, so they couldn't continue their argument for much longer after that. Which was bad, because if they both had time to sleep on it, things weren't going to go in a very positive slope.

Closing the door behind the Hédérvarys, Alfher gave Gilbert a wan smile before taking his wife upstairs. Aranka and Amelina had cleared the table and cleaned the dishes before the former had left, so the chores were done. Gilbert went up to his own room, debating on whether or not to call Elizaveta and try to get her to listen to him. Deciding against it, partly because of his pride and partly because of his laziness, he rolled over and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, ahem, what are we feeling? Too fast? Too boring? Too slow? Comment! Let me know what you think! I promise I'll try to implement your ideas or suggestions.
> 
> Au revoir, mes amis.


	10. Open Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And my last update for a week or so! Yay! xD
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, I really had no clue where I was going with this.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

_"There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment."_

**―Sarah Dessen, _The Truth About Forever_**

The days ticked down for the Halloween dance.

For Gilbert, each day was practically a century. In part, because his father was not in the slightest pleased with the fact that he'd compromised with his Omega, he'd been regrounded as punishment, and a bit because it looked like he might be forced to end his engagement with Elizaveta, and finally because he was really excited for the dance.

Walking into school the day after the Beilschmidt dinner, he pulled Elizaveta aside. This was something he really didn't want to do, but having been chewed out by his dad on it, he didn't have a choice. "Eliza," he said, his voice that ever-existent gravel, "I will decide how many children we have." She opened her mouth to argue, but he growled warningly. "Don't fight me on this." He snapped, watching the flash of fear and then hurt spark in her eyes. Guilt ate at him, and he eventually stormed away, a mess of confusion. Why did he care, now, what she thought? There was a time when what Omegas considered to be right and wrong didn't affect Gil in the slightest. There was a time when he knew for a fact that he was going to be the only one making big decisions in his family lifestyle.

And then he'd found Eliza, and his point of view perhaps changed.

Needless to say, she was pissed after that. She didn't want to talk to Gilbert the rest of the day, even going so far to press his buttons by sitting next to  _Roderich._  Gil was pretty sure he'd never wanted to kill a Beta more than he did during that lunch period; watching Eliza laugh and place her hand on the other boy's upper arm. Seeing her giggle and run her fingers through his hair.

Gilbert was so busy seething that he didn't notice his friends exchange glances and scooch slightly away from him. He barely discerned the mark adorning Lovino's neck, with Antonio the proud Alpha next to him. He didn't see Francis doting after Matthew like he was the Omega in the relationship. He was conscious of none of this because  _his_ Omega was busy flirting with some stupid Beta. A stupid Beta with a bit of a snobby attitude.

Only Alphas were really allowed to flirt with other Omegas or Betas around their mates. It was forgivable because they are  _Alphas_ and it's not like they can control themselves. It's not their fault that they can't ignore the next attractive Omega to catch their eye. However if an Omega flirts with another Alpha while he or she is mated to a living one, than there will be hell to pay, both for the Omega and for the Alpha or Beta that he or she is flirting with.

Elizaveta had wormed herself into that situation, and their future was very possibly in jeopardy.

When Gilbert arrived home from school, Alfher could immediately tell that something was wrong with his son. He could smell it steaming off of the boy's skin. "Gilbert," he said, calling the white-haired Alpha into his office, "what happened at school today?"

Gil threw himself into the chair in front of his father's desk. "Elizaveta, actually," he groaned. Alfher waited patiently for his slightly egotistical and dramatic son to continue. "She was flirting with Roderich right in front of me the entire day, father. That's all she did, and all because I told her that I would be making decisions for our future from here on out." He griped.

A thrumming of fingers along the solid wood of the desk echoed through the quieter space. It was a dangerous sound, like a clock ticking. Alfher was displeased.

"Well, that's something we shall certainly have to take up with her parents, isn't it? If she isn't willing to respect your control of her as her Alpha, than we will simply have to find you a new Omega. And we will be sure to spread about that Miss Elizaveta Hédérvary is not a suitable or proper Omega for any Alpha."

Gilbert was alarmed, and he tried to protest his father's plan but was silenced by a raised palm. "Gilbert, don't question me on this. I understand what kind of Omegas we will accept into this family. Elizaveta will not be one of them if she doesn't shape up."

Gilbert hesitated. " _Vater_ , let me talk to her parents." He spoke up, holding his breath as the man cast his gaze judgementally up and down his son's body. "I can handle them. I  _know_  them. I know how her father thinks. I was the one who arranged this thing, I need to be the one to call the shots. I need to assert myself,  _ich bin ein Preuße_." His father scoffed at Gilbert's last sentence, but it was undeniable that he saw the logic in his son's calculations. It would make a lot more sense if Gilbert talked to Eliza's father than if he did.

"Very well," Alfher said at last. "But if you don't handle this efficiently, than I will be forced to step in."

Gilbert swallowed and nodded his head before turning and leaving, maintaining a straight back and an upright profile the entire time. The hardest part of this ordeal would be speaking to Eliza's father.

Snatching out of his front door with a coat hung in the crook of his arm, Gil began his walk over to Elizaveta's house. He ran through what exactly to say as he crossed streets and bounced on his toes at stop lights, waiting for them to turn red so that he could cross safely. He put the coat on somewhere along the way, the collar moving up to touch his ear lobes as he pulled his shoulders in on himself. He wasn't feeling like this was the best idea, but there was no other option. As a fellow Alpha, hopefully Eliza's father would respect that. Etel shouldn't have too many qualms with his demands.

He took a deep breath before using the door knocker to rap twice on the boring brown door in front of him. A minute passed before the door was pulled open.

But instead of Aranka or Etel answering the door, it was Eliza.

Gil's heart hit the floor.

"Ah,  _hallo."_ He said, German slipping through his voice like water. He was nervous, and didn't really know what else to say.

" _Helló_ ," said Eliza, giving him a strange look. Gil swallowed, a nervous smile on his face. Then Etel appeared behind her daughter, pressing a kiss to the top of Eliza's hair and shooing her up the stairs. "He can't see you this way," she hissed warningly after the girl, indicating to Eliza's not-so-covering pajamas.

Once Elizaveta had been forced from the picture, Gilbert was made to look at Etel. And the Alpha seemed to know that the Prussian was here for some serious conversation. "Into my office, then," she sighed wearily, gesturing for Gil to lead the way.

Gilbert did, walking into the room he'd been in a couple of months ago and taking a comfortable place in the chair. Etel sat on the other side of the desk, her fingers crossed to form a basket for her to rest her chin on.

"Why are you here, Gilbert?"

"Elizaveta, actually." Said Gilbert, getting straight to the point. "She isn't acting how an Omega should. For instance, she was flirting with a Beta at lunch today, well aware that I could see her actions."

Etel didn't give an obvious reaction to this piece of news. "What did you do to call for this revenge?"

Affronted, Gilbert didn't respond immediately, casting his eyes to a dark corner of the room to find something of distraction. "I told her that I would be making the decisions in our relationship." He finally said, not understanding why he was so ashamed. It was perfectly normal, custom even, for an Alpha to do that. He turned those hellfire eyes to meet Etel's cool brown ones.

"Perhaps she decided that she wants more respect than that." The female alpha shrugged, taking a sip from a glass of brandy that was sitting on her desk.

Gilbert's eyes narrowed. "That's not an Omega's place, and we both know that.  _Mein Vader_  will not accept her into my family if she doesn't shape up."

Etel's eyes flashed a hard amber. "Than perhaps you should start searching elsewhere, for my daughter will not change just to fit into an overly conservative family such as yours. She is perfect, and if you cannot accept that, than you'd best move on."

Silence.

"I can't."

Etel felt a small smile. "Than maybe you should think about who is more important to you; Eliza, or your family." Gilbert watched her a moment before Etel made a gesture. "Go up and check Liz. I'm sure she's dying to see you, and you both have some explaining to do."

Standing and giving a slight bow before exiting the room, Gilbert was left with a dilemma. He loved his family, dearly so; Ludwig was his brother and one of his best friends; Feliciano was growing on him, a splash of color in an otherwise bland life; his father, though he was harsh, would fight for him any day of the week; his mother adored him, and pride was always loud in her eyes when she looked upon her eldest.

Could he leave them?

It took a bit to get up the stairs, and when he reached Elizaveta's door, he raised a hesitant fist and knocked. She pulled it open, much as she had done the front door, and seemed to read into his soul the minute her eyes landed on his.

When he leaned forward, she was there to wrap her arms around him, partially supporting his weight. When he buried his face into her shoulder, she was murmuring words of love and comfort into his ears, her fingers carding through the hair decorating the back of his head. When his shoulders started to shake, she was pressing a kiss to his cheek and pulling his head so that she could rub the tears away with the pads of her thumbs.

And that was when Gilbert realized that a relationship worked both ways. One had to lean on the other for support. Without the other to help, the love wasn't there; affection didn't exist; there was no respect. That was why he'd never seen or heard his parents doting on one another. He'd always just assumed that they were more sheltered with their affection, but maybe it wasn't that at all; maybe it was because the love wasn't there in the first place.

Slowly, they both sunk to the floor in the doorway of Eliza's room, the Hungarian girl's arms still wrapped securely about Gilbert, warding off the coming demons.

She was crying now, her thinner shoulders shaking in time with his, her legs bent beneath her, but his hands were soon pulling her into his lap, his arms wrapping securely about her; like a blanket. To keep away the monsters, but knowing that he couldn't keep away all of them, because that would mean that he'd need to keep himself away.

They were both sorry, that could be read into angles of shoulders and tenderness of touches. Fingers flitted over wet cheeks, lips danced across quivering lips. They were rediscovering each other; hopping into a new relationship together with faith that neither would let the other fall.

Gilbert fell asleep at Eliza's house that night. They were both resting on her bed, with his future mate curled into his embrace. Their faces were close together, his feet stretching out past hers on the bed. He watched her as she slept; creepy, though it may sound, but reassuring to himself. She was safe. She was his. He was hers. They were each others. A smile came across his face, one that had never been seen adorning the awesome Gilbert's lips. It was one of complete and utter adoration. He would walk to the ends of the earth for this Omega, and back again.

Yet even as he ran his fingers over the strands of Elizaveta's hair that stretched out over the mattress of the bed, Gilbert knew that this wasn't permanent. He couldn't just leave his family like that. He'd have hell to pay when he got back home-he was still grounded after all-but he didn't know what to do. He'd have to talk to his father, see if he could change the man's mentality towards Gilbert's treasured Eliza. If not, his life was about to get a whole lot more difficult, because he wasn't considered an adult yet. He was only sixteen. On January 18, he would celebrate his seventeenth, and then finally, a year later, he would become an adult with his eighteenth. But until then, he was his father's ward; his father's child.

He woke up the day of the dance to the sound of a camera going off. Blinking groggily, one eye resting open while the other was more than happy to stay shut, he saw a giggling Eliza holding a freshly developed photo in front of him. It was one of him sleeping. Glaring accusingly, he plucked the photo from her fingers, put it on the nightstand, and pulled her onto the bed with him, both arms wrapped around her waist. Eliza laughed, gleeful and content with her new situation. Gilbert respected her. She was now his equal. She pressed a kiss to his nose before working on sliding away from him, but not before he took a morning kiss from her.

"Gilbert," she scolded playfully, "we do have to get to school, you know. I'm not in heat, so we don't have an excuse to not be there." She could read the Prussian's mind as the boy groaned in response, sitting up in bed and running a hand through an already fiercely intense bed head. Eliza's eyes softened with affection and she moved forward to press kisses to each of his closed eyelids. "Come on, let's get some breakfast in you. And then we're going to have to get to your house so you can get your clothes and outfit for the dance tonight."

Gil obligingly let Elizaveta guide him down the stairs, her fingers meshed with his as she careened down. Arriving in the kitchen, Gilbert was greeted with a sight that had him shifting uncomfortably; he may have accepted his feelings for Eliza,but that didn't mean that he could change what he thought was right and what he thought was wrong in one night, and this most certainly wasn't right. Aranka was at the stove, cooking, and Etel was helping, reading instructions from a booklet and looking helplessly to her mate for guidance.

Gil looked, wide-eyed over at Eliza, and got a reassuring smile in response. "This is a different kind of system,  _jóképű_ , you'll be okay," she squeezed his fingers reassuringly before walking in and getting a kiss on the cheek from both her mother and her father. Etel and Aranka then turned to Gilbert, welcoming smiles on their faces.

" _Jó reggelt_ , Gilbert," said Etel, gesturing for him to take a seat at the table. "We're almost done with breakfast. I'm afraid I've slowed my darling mate down in my attempt to help her in the kitchen," she shrugged in a what-can-you-do gesture before turning her attention back to Aranka. Elizaveta took the seat next to Gilbert, her legs resting in the Prussian's lap, her right shoulder pressed against the back of the wooden chair she was sitting in.

The kitchen was nice, with a little island separating the dining table from the kitchen space. There were modern appliances; a stainless steel fridge, stove, and sink. There was a cupboard tucked back between the stove and sink, in a corner of the kitchen, that Gilbert was sure had plenty of food and spices in its hold.

Breakfast was served, and it was typical Hungarian fare, something Gilbert hadn't really tried before.

He wasn't disappointed.

There was some homemade bread placed on the table, cheese, and meat. A toaster joined all of it, plugged into the wall by a little socket just past the head of the table where no one was sitting. Aranka and Etel took the seats across from Gilbert and Elizaveta and they all began to eat. The little sandwiches that were created were called 'soldiers' and Gil was very fond of them. They were quick, easy, and delicious.

By the time everyone had finished and Aranka and Eliza had put the dishes up, school was close to starting. Gilbert and Elizaveta were going to have to run back to his house to get his stuff on time.

And they did. They practically sprinted that entire way back, Liz blowing kisses over her shoulder at her parents before scampering with Gil to the Beilschmidt house.

When the door was answered by his father, Gil just busted past the tight-mouthed German, knowing that he was going to be in for it but not really caring. Eliza stood politely in the doorway, the perfectly demure Omega, waiting for Alfher to let her in. Eventually, the blond-haired Alpha did, content with the way Eliza was acting, even if he wasn't pleased with how sweaty she appeared to be.

Gilbert got dressed in record time, snagged his costume from where it hung on a hanger in his closet, and was back downstairs before Alfher or Eliza knew it.

They were able to walk at a slower pace to school, with Gilbert's arm slung over her shoulders and hers resting on his waist in response. There was an easy-going nature to them now that hadn't been there before.

School passed bitingly slow. Romano was trailed by Antonio the entire day, the Spanish Alpha taking every opportunity given him to feather kisses upon his Omega, brushing his lips and teeth over the mark and growling with pleasure as the boy melted against him.

Gilbert and Eliza made a point to avoid them, and so did the rest of the school. It was kind of disgusting.

Francis was happier now that Matthew seemed to have gotten over his funk. They were on speaking terms once more, with Francis complimenting Matthew at practically every turn.

Mathias and Lukas were different that day as well. Lukas was less aloof than he had been in the past, initiating some contact with a nudge of his head or a brush of his lips. Mathias, surprisingly, didn't jump up and smother the Norwegian in enthusiasm, just gently and calmly responded in kind to each one of the other boy's gestures of affection.

Arthur and Alfred seemed to be butting heads more, however. Gilbert didn't know about what, nor did Elizaveta, but it wasn't pretty. Some of their fights spilled out into the hallways, not just in the abandoned classrooms that Arthur preferred. Alfred wanted the school to know what was going on, and Arthur didn't. A conflict of interests.

Gilbert accompanied Eliza home, kissing her goodbye at the door before swinging his outfit over his shoulder and meandering off to Francis's home. The three of them were going to get ready for the thing together, a completely Omega thing to do but oh well. They'd had sex, what could happen worse than that?

Gilbert didn't even bother knocking when he got to the elaborately carved door, just pushed it open.

" _Bonjour, Gilbert,"_ called Francis's mom from, presumably, the garden out back. She was big on plants.

" _Guten Abend,_ Mrs. Bonnefoy!" called out Gilbert in response before popping off to his French friend's room. Francis was an only child, and his mother a single parent. She made do as the Omega in Francis's life, but she couldn't fill in the Alpha gap that the boy was missing.

"Francis! The awesome me has arrived!" called Gilbert, smashing into the room with awesomeness radiating in waves from him. He was cocky, arrogant, and in love; invincible.

Wrinkling his nose, Francis waved his hand in the air. " _Mon Dieu,_ you smell like wet dog. Have you even had a shower?"

Gilbert shook his head, and was immediately shoved off in that direction.

While he was showering, he could hear the trill of Antonio's excitable Spanish voice dancing through the halls and into Francis's room, making Gilbert rush so that he didn't miss out on too much.

Gilbert returned to the room with a towel tied about his waist and another one being used to scrub his hair dry. The boys soon began to talk, like gossiping Omegas, about the men and women who'd stolen their hearts.

Their chatter carried them through the getting into outfits process.

Gilbert's chosen outfit to represent Prussia was actually more reminiscent of the Teutonic Knights, but that was okay, because the awesomeness that was the Teutonic Knights helped create the even awesomer country of Prussia. He had gray, skin-tight trousers with a white tunic over it, the tunic dropping all the way down to his knees. The fabric was then tightened about his waist by a black belt, matching the color of the Cross of the Teutonic Knights that adorned his chest. A cape rested about his shoulders, drifting down to mid-calf with another cross touching the corner of it. A skin tight, long-sleeved white shirt was beneath the tunic, helping him to cover more of the skin that the Teutonic Knights would have had covered. Small little divers were cut in triangles on either side of the tunic bottom, bordering Gilbert's legs.

Francis was wearing the French uniform from World War II, a fantastically overdone piece. It had alarmingly red pants, and a blue jacket or cape thing, with black boots. His blond hair and rather conceited Frenchiness only added to the regal splendor of it all.

Antonio, however, was wearing Spanish conquistador regalia. He had khaki trousers, a white tunic shirt that ended in froths of fabric at the sleeves, and a bright red coat over that with gold trimming, buttons, and white cuffs. A metal shoulder protector of sorts was encasing his right shoulder, a black ribbon tied about his neck, atop the collar of his tunic, and a burnt gold sash rested about his hips, with black boots attached to his feet. His brown hair and green eyes balanced the outfit nicely, along with that gorgeously tan skin. He was a sight for sore eyes, and Gilbert was pretty sure that Romano would be all over this Spaniard tonight.

Each of them had their chosen weapon that they fought with day-to-day gripped in their hand. Antonio held a hefty battle-ax leaning out from his body, the butt of it resting against the outside of his boot. Francis had a sword hung at his waist, resting comfortably in its scabbard that was cracked and soft from how often it'd been used. Gilbert's sword was in much the same place as Francis's With this all done, they were ready to go, and so they all departed, going their separate ways from Francis's house.

Antonio knocked on Lovino's door with a sharp rap, feeling remarkably attractive and confident in his outfit. When Lovino pulled the door open, he could see desire ignite in his Omega's eyes before being forcibly snuffed out.

Lovino was wearing World War II khaki. A brown belt marked out his waist from the bulkiness of his jacket, and his boots were just as dark. He had a button-down undershirt and a bunched, dark brown tie beneath the jacket, and he looked splendid.

Feliciano appeared from behind his brother, wearing the same outfit but in darker blue and with a black undershirt and blue tie.

Antonio escorted Lovino to the dance proudly, after his Omega kissed him and made sure to smother his scent all over him to let any sneaky Omegas know that this Alpha wasn't up for grabs.

Francis tapped lightly on Matthew's door, grinning as the boy opened it, those violet eyes glimmering happily at him. He was also wearing a World War II outfit, khaki, straight-ironed pants with what looked to be a lightly-tan fighter pilot jacket, complete with fur trimming, and two leather straps crossing each other on his chest and back. He looked magnificent, and Francis chanced a chaste kiss before leading Matthew away.

When Arthur arrived a little while later, he was wearing the British army uniform of the colonization period, around the 1600s-1800s. His uniform was red, with white lapels, gold buttons, and little slits to slide in any medals received. One white sash crossed his chest from left shoulder to right hip. Black cuffs were at his sleeves, and he wore black boots with white trousers, and all the vestments that made up the torso.

Alfred was wearing the American get-up of the Revolutionary War. His coat was blue, two bands were crossing each other on his chest, much like Matthew's outfit. He had the same accoutrements as Arthur. The two smiled shyly at one another and walked off to the dance.

Gilbert was bouncing on his toes as he waited for Eliza to open her door. When she did, he stood there like a deer in the headlights, his eyes absorbing every single inch of his Omega.

She was wearing a dark brown skirt that grew longer as it went back; a high-low. It was shortest when it hit her upper thigh, and lengthened until it got to her ankles in the back. She wore brown fur boots, a puff of assumingly faux animal hide peeping from the top of it and where the laces tightened the shoes about her feet. Her shirt, more like corset, was tight and left a small sliver of skin showing before the ties tightened the bodice more. It was a pale gray color, rimmed with black. She had a metal sheath, much like Antonio's, on her shoulder and her forearms, a tattered brown cape behind her. She didn't have a sword, and had swapped out her bright pink flowers for some silvery gray ones. She looked amazing, fierce, and delectable all at once.

And Gilbert did not want to let her go out wearing that. Stalking forward, he ran his hand along the arc of her neck, shivering at the smoothness of her skin and how low he could dip his hand before skin gave way to fabric. " _Jesus_  I can't let you go out like this," he murmured, voice smooth with desire. He wanted to mark her, could feel every nerve in his body begging him to do it.

But he refused to put Elizaveta in that sort of situation again.

Smirking, she raised an eyebrow. "Take me as I am," she replied, noticing that her future mate had to grit his teeth to keep from snapping at her insolence. Their path would be a long one, the ways of traditional Alphas pretty ingrained, but she had faith that he could change. He already had; he'd accepted her for herself.

"This is for my own mental health, but so be it," he grumbled, offering her his arm and leading them away from the house. Etel and Aranka said they wanted pictures of the two after the dance; an odd request, but one that Gilbert didn't want to dishonor. What Gilbert really didn't understand was why Etel was letting her Omega daughter walk out of the house like this. It was risky, especially considering the fact that other Alphas could take advantage of the girl.

Or maybe she just had faith in Gilbert to protect her daughter. Gil stood a little taller at the thought, proud and determined not to disappoint.

When everyone arrived at school, the fun really began. Countries were buzzing around, people dressed intoxicatingly in attractive uniforms from their homeland. Almost every country was represented, and it was delicious. People were using their own languages now, comfortable in traditional clothes, and even more so in their traditional tongues. Things were easygoing.

And then the teachers caught sight of Elizaveta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do y'all think I rushed it a bit? I don't know.. Hm... Well, comment, review, I adore each and every one of y'all.
> 
> I love you, my beautiful readers!


	11. Electric Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back, sorry for the week of no-updating. If you will look at my profile, you will see the schedule that I plan to stick to when it comes to updating my stories from here on out. School is starting, and we all know how that is, so I'm going to be pretty busy these next few months. But hopefully I can keep track of all this, yeah?
> 
> Oh, and did I tell y'all that I got a hamster? Yep! Her name is Sarah, and she's a Syrian, and I adore her.
> 
> Also, I recommend reading The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare because it's amazing.  
> Thank you, all of you, for your reviews. I hope y'all like this chapter, and please continue commenting. :)
> 
> Oh, and y'all should totally check into ScarletPrussia's PruHun omega verse fic too. It's fabulous.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

_"When someone loves you, the way they talk about you is different. You feel safe and comfortable."_

**―Jess C. Scott, _The Intern_**

Gilbert's body slid in front of Eliza's, an instinct to protect the life-giver making the young Alpha place himself between his Omega and the perceived threat. A low growl was rumbling through his chest, vibrating up his throat. His right arm crossed over his chest to rest on the pommel of his sword, red eyes narrowed and flickering about.

Elizaveta, perhaps because of her coming heat, or perhaps because she was more comfortable around Gilbert, or perhaps because she was slightly scared of what the teachers would do to her, ducked behind the protective Alpha. The Hungarian had to close her eyes and take a few deep breaths to regain her mind from the wreath of instinct to hide behind the big strong Alphas, and let them do the job of fighting. She could fight too, that was why she had a small dagger at her own waist, not that she was going to go demonstrating that in public; she didn't want her family to be taken into custody, after all.

Once in control of her own body, she began to work on calming Gilbert down, a wisp of that Omega compulsion telling her to take care of her Alpha, and soothe them. Her fingers slid over his tensed back, dipping along the wings of his shoulder blades, and running along the backs of his arms. He relaxed incrementally. Standing on her tiptoes, she ducked her nose against the back of his neck, nuzzling into the warm skin and whimpering and humming in his ear. This behavior wasn't entirely demeaning to her, it actually helped to prove the power Omegas have over their Alphas, but it was something she'd never imagined herself doing before—calming down an Alpha by pressing her face into his neck. And all of a sudden, she wanted to continue doing that, to take strength in certain aspects of her frailty. Maybe giving into instincts wouldn't be so bad after all, though that didn't mean that she would demand any less respect than what she wanted.

Gilbert relaxed fully then, the weight of his Omega against his back, the feather light touch of her nose and then the full warmth of her face pressing into his neck doing the trick. He took a shuddering breath and turned about, sliding his arms around Elizaveta's waist and pulling her into him, pressing the side of his nose into her hair and inhaling. That would aid to calm him down even further.

Both were oblivious to the eyes of some of the students. Not all of them cared, as most had mates and understood the instincts that were ruling Gilbert and Eliza's movements. The reason so many were gazing was because of the Hungarian Omega's outfit.

Only the Beta teachers moved forward to discuss the situation with the mated pair, the Alphas hanging back for fear some of them might lose control of their anger if Gilbert got snappish in his defenses of his mate.

"Gilbert, why have you let your mate out in such attire?" asked one of the Betas, keeping a neutral tone. She didn't want to tip the teenage Alpha over the edge, knowing that this Prussian boy was far and wide one of the best sword wielders that many of the Alpha sword masters had seen.

"It was her chosen outfit for this dance," spoke up the white-haired teen, speaking over the higher in pitch voice of his mate. He knew that he would pay for that later, but it was in all of their best interests that she not stand up against the rules of society right at that moment, "I couldn't tell her to go find something else, as this is historical clothing of Hungary."  
The Beta woman hummed, watching as the Alpha shifted away from his Omega, still keeping his right arm slung about her waist, and tucking her into his side, but being less protective of her than he had been earlier.

"You didn't give any rules about how Omegas should dress for this dance,  _gnädige Frau_ ," said Gilbert, hating to have to show respect for a Beta of all natures, but he knew that it was only polite, and he had to get her to pardon Eliza for the rest of the evening.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "That would be because we assumed that she would follow the regular clothing guidelines of our school and this society. She has blatantly disregarded them."

Gilbert growled once more, low and warning. Eliza pressed her hand over the one that was slung about her waist, squeezing Gilbert's fingers reassuringly. Finally, she spoke up.

"But if the Omegas of the past wore this clothing, than why should it be improper for me to do so? I am following what was once uniform for other men and women, should I not be showing respect to my ancestors by obeying what they had decided to be proper in their day?"

"But it was in their day, little one," spoke the Beta, condescending to the Omega that was beneath her rank in society. "They were able to wear outfits with less fabric because that was the rules of their society. We have since modernized past such barbaric ways. It is in your greatest interest to respect our rules."

Elizaveta shifted, constricted and upset. "I don't understand, why am I not able to dress the way my ancestors would? Why am I not allowed to clothe myself in the clothes of my past peoples?"

The Beta sucked in, an exasperated breath. "Because that is not right."

Gilbert could feel Elizaveta's body coiling beneath his hand, and he knew that she was going to retaliate, he could feel the hatred for this order in the shifting of her muscles beneath her skin. So he spoke up.

"If necessary, I will take her back to her home and have her clothe in historical garb that is more appropriate for the Hungarian people," he spoke, trying to placate the situation, even though every single Alpha urge roiling beneath his flesh was urging him to defend his mate, to fight against that self-righteous Beta that seemed to consider herself above Alphas.

A pleased expression flashed across the woman's face. "That would be splendid, thank you for your coöperation."

Gilbert grinned wickedly, "Wonderful, don't drink the punch Eliza," he told her helpfully as he steered her by the Beta, who was once more angry.

"What are you doing?" the woman snapped, reaching out to snag at Gilbert's cape. The Prussian whipped about, a vicious growl tearing past his lips. "I'm exercising my right as an Alpha to have control over my mate," he said, each word marked out with a knife's threat.

"But she is not your mate, is she?" murmured the Beta as a parting blow, a very pleased smile on her face. "I don't see a claim on her, do you? And I certainly don't smell you on her. You haven't even scented your Omega, what a shame," she tsked, reaching out to take Eliza's other hand only to yelp as the girl crunched the woman's fingers together in a lethal grip.

Gilbert huffed, but was proud of Eliza's ability to resist. "Let her go,  _Engel,_  she is not worth it," he spoke out, brushing a kiss to the side of her head. Eventually Elizaveta did as asked, not finding it worth her time to hang on the ridiculous woman.

"Do I need to claim her? Is that the thing you demand of me, so that she may wear the outfit she no doubt worked on for a long time?" he asked the woman, his voice falsely agreeable.

"Yes, that is exactly what you need to do," said the woman, trying to covertly shake out her aching fingers.

"Do I need to mark her, or do I scent her?" Gilbert asked, choosing to test how much this Beta teacher knew about the relations between Alphas and Omegas.

The woman faltered. "Mark her, I believe," she murmured. This was out of her depth, as she was the sewing teacher for the Omega wing. She didn't need to know whether Alphas needed to fully lay claim to their Omegas by marking or if they could make do temporarily with scenting.

Gilbert grinned. "Wrong," he chirped happily, turning Eliza so that she was in front of him. The girl understood what he was going to do, and for once remained quiet, letting the Alpha call the shots for the moment. He was in control of the situation at the moment anyway. Tilting her head to the right, she bared her neck to him.

Gilbert swallowed, eyes skipping over the smooth skin. He knew that what he really wacted to do was lay claim to her, place his mark there so that no other would take her. But there was a more temporary solution that didn't even involve teeth needing to go into skin.

Ducking his head, and feeling the burning touch of hundreds of pairs of eyes, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, feeling Eliza inhale sharply. She was nearing her heat, so the sensation of an Alpha's mouth so close to the place that one would mark an Omega was slightly overwhelming for her. Smirking against her skin and feeling her grunt of frustration, he gently pressed his lips against her skin before nudging at it with his teeth and then brushing his nose and cheeks against her. That would have to do for the moment, a faint red ring left where his teeth had born down on her neck. He'd had a bit of difficulty at that point to restrain himself from not fully marking her. It wasn't proper in such a public setting.

The Beta was huffy, but she eventually let them pass once a few other Betas and even one Alpha approached, though Gilbert had to be fenced back a bit when the Alpha stepped forward to test the scenting. Elizaveta had only rolled her eyes at Gilbert's instinctive reactions to other Alphas being near what he no doubt considered his Omega now. But it was sweet, and secretly she was pleased that he was so possessive of her, cute in its odd way.

After the authorities had let them be, though they did keep an eye on them, Gilbert took Eliza over to where his friends and their respective Omegas stood. Eliza smiled kindly at Francis's playful wink and grinned teasingly at Antonio's clueless smile. Gil was happy with how easily she seemed to integrate in with the other boys, even though he was pretty sure he'd seen Francis butt heads with her once in the hallway.

"You look absolutely stunning in your skirt, Eliza," spoke up Francis, his voice purring with the usual French accent. Liz barely managed to refrain from blushing, and that was only because she could hear Gilbert stirring somewhat uncomfortably next to her, his hand drifting to brush along her hips as if he needed a reassurance that she was still very much within his reach.

"You do, but don't you think that is a little risky?" spoke up Antonio, wincing as Romano stomped on his foot. "Oi, Romano!" snapped the Alpha, insulted and hurt. The Italian shrugged unapologetically.

"Well, it's risky for a reason Antonio," responded Elizaveta, shrugging shamelessly. "Things need to change around here."

Matthew, the Canadian Omega that Francis trailed around all the time, cocked his head. Gilbert only just noticed him as he spoke up. "I don't think that you should dress like that anyway," he said quietly, voice whisper-shy.

Eliza bristled. "And why not?"

"Because it's making too much of a statement too early on."

The Hungarian fell silent, mulling over this piece of wisdom. She was like Gilbert in some ways, eager to rush headlong into things that probably should be considered before being attempted.

But Romano was well and truly on Elizaveta's side here. " _No,"_ he said with finality. "She needs to make statements to get people's attention. No one's going to be noticed just lying down, after all, no one notices you half the time because you never speak up." Unlike his younger Italian brother, when Romano said that it was not in a playfully innocent way. He meant for those words to make their mark, and they rang true.

Francis growled, shifting to block his Omega from the view of the antagonistic Romano. "So he isn't a filthy-mouthed Italian such as you, I do believe that there are worse fates," said the Frenchman darkly.

Antonio moved to defend Romano, especially as an angry flush was darkening the hue of the Omega's cheeks, but the argument was broken up as the first slow song of the night came on. It was the obligation for Alphas to take their Omegas to the dance floors during these moments, to wrap them close and stake their claim for any unmated Alphas in the room to see.

The group broke on testy ground, Francis sweeping a flustered Matthew fantastically into the middle of the dance floor and demanding the attention of most. He was all about grandeur, after all, and it was certainly an obvious way to get it. Every Alpha was supposed to take dance lessons, as much consternation as that caused, so that they might impress Omegas and make good standing in social events that could involve dancing in their futures.

Antonio was equally magnificent in leading Romano out, though one could tell that this waltz was not their type of dance. They were looking for something a little more exciting to get into the beat of, especially Antonio.

Gilbert, however, understood that Eliza would like to be asked to dance, not rudely swept on the dance floor without her permission. There was a time for random bursts of spontaneity, but at the beginning of their fledgling relationship was not it.

"Elizaveta," said Gilbert, bowing slightly in front of her and offering her his hand. A smirk was on his lips as he peered up at her through white eyelashes. "May I have this dance?"

Elizaveta pretended to consider it, giggling at the scrunched expression that marred Gilbert's previously laughing face. "Of course you may," she relented and he soon led her to the floor, his right hand falling to her hip while her left moved to his right shoulder. His left hand grasped her right in a firm, but gentle grip and raised their conjoined hands to about the height of his shoulder. And then they began to move with the music, Eliza leaning slightly against her mate not for search of support but because she wanted to feel the padded firmness of his body beneath hers, wanted to smell him and feel the fabric of his clothes beneath her cheek. They eventually melted down from a full-on waltz into a soft sort of swaying comfort, with his left hand falling down to her hip and her right hand falling to his shoulder. They melted against each other, oblivious to the rest of the room as Gilbert pressed his face into Eliza's hair and squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting the moment to end. But it did, and more dances were taken up.

Antonio and Romano ruled the dance floor when a particularly intense dance rang over the speakers, their hands rippling sensually over one another's bodies and leaving many teachers unsure of what to do.

Francis and Matthew were stunning in most dances they took part in, if only because Francis was so remarkably flashy and seemed to particularly spinning Matthew into a dip even when one wasn't necessary.

Gilbert and Elizaveta were content with just being with one another, most of the time abandoning full on dancing about halfway through the song to press against one another and just absorb.

Walking out afterwards, some feathers were smoothed. Romano apologized to Matthew at the insistence of Antonio, and Francis apologized to Romano at the insistence of Matthew. All was well in the friend group once more, and as Antonio and Francis melted away with their mates, or future ones as the case may be, Gil hung behind with Eliza.

"Do you think it's possible that I could spend the night at your house again?" he asked her, laughing as she gave him an incredulous look.

"Sure, so I can have your intimidating father storming into my house demanding what we've done with you?" she snorted, her fingers moving up to push through Gilbert's hair, making each strand stick up at angles.

"My heat is in a couple days, you'll have your chance then," she murmured, smiling at the spark of excitement and want that appeared in Gilbert's eyes. She knew that the Alpha in Gil could sense it, an Omega in preheat was never really obscure.

"I will have plenty of chances," preened Gil, his right hand moving absently up to brush against the crook of Elizaveta's neck where he had marked her.

"You will be mine, darling, and don't protest, please  _Gott._ " He muttered, watching Eliza's mouth open to do exactly that.

"I can't…" he seemed to waver then, "I can't bear the idea of you being with another Alpha. Please,  _Engel_ , please just don't fight me on this one." He practically begged her, watching as the Hungarian's eyes widened for a moment with understanding.

"You're scared that you might lose me, aren't you?" she whispered, watching as the Alpha's head dropped in shame. An Alpha should never be afraid of anything,t hat was a general rule of society, and here was Gilbert opening up one of his no doubt many fears to her.

She couldn't disappoint.

Sliding her hands up his body, she wrapped her arms about his neck and hugged herself to him, her curvy shadow pressing against his silhouette in the shade that was thrown on the concrete from a street lamp by the school. She knew that he wasn't going to cry, but he was enduring a moment of something, something that was making him shake, not from tears but from a completely separate entity. And as his arms wound greedily about her waist to pull her practically into him, she rubbed her face into the crook of his neck, trying to discretely scent mark him as her own. A rumble of laughter vibrating against her body let her know that she hadn't been as covert as she'd hoped.

"Someone's a little possessive," murmured Gil, pulling away enough to press his forehead to Eliza's. She grinned sheepishly and nudged her nose with his. "I'll be yours, but that means that you have to promise to be mine." Something unnameable flitted through Gilbert's ruby eyes at that moment, something confusingly soft and humming with an energy of warmth and adoration.

"So be it," he said, pressing a kiss to her lips that Eliza rapidly deepened. He was soon backing her up against the wall of the school, his hands dipping lower on her waist and brushing against the bare skin of her thighs. Shivers wracked through both at the sensation and a somewhat possessive growl oscillated from Gilbert, leaving a somewhat gasping and electrified and  _needy_  Elizaveta in its wake.

"I might be wrong," she gasped as Gilbert's lips moved form her own to nip hungrily at the soft skin of her collarbone and neck, grasping at the cape on his back with desperate fingers. "I think my heat may be a lot sooner than I thought it would," she moaned out as his teeth hit a particularly sensitive spot and began to work at it.

And then the sound of a cellphone buzzed through their zapped silence, shattering the atmosphere with each blatant ring.

Groaning and pulling his teeth from where they had been scraping over her neck, Gilbert slid it from the pocket he'd worked inside his costume and gazed down at the Caller ID.

From what he could discern, it was an Italian area code. His heart dropped and he hurriedly raised it to his ear. "Feliciano?" he asked, not even bothering with silly formalities.

A harried, crazed Italian voice came over the line, and Gilbert could feel Eliza reacting to the panic, an Omega instinct rising in her to comfort whatever the younger boy. Gilbert eased her by rubbing gentle, firm circles along her hip.

"Gilbert! It's Ludwig, you've got to get over here," Feliciano was only barely making any sense in English, and the boy in his fright was rapidly slipping into Italian.

" _Was_?" snapped Gilbert in German, keeping himself close to Eliza as his own urge to protect his Omega kicked in, especially as there appeared to be an emergency where Feliciano was at.

The Hungarian Omega said nothing, just let Gilbert ease his own peace of mind, as being close to him helped her calm down.

"There's been an accident," whimpered Feliciano, obviously lost and keening over what could either be his mate's dead or very injured body.

Gilbert coiled with rage and panic, tucking his nose into Eliza's neck to try to calm himself. The phone switched from his left to right ear so that he could manage this without cutting off connection with Feli.

Eliza didn't mind this as it gave her a better in to listen to what was going on, and one hand moved to run through Gilbert's hair.

"Why weren't you two at the dance? Where are you?"

"Ludwig wanted to do something special, something different!" wailed Feliciano, giving Gilbert a headache. "We're in the subway station at Yankee Stadium," gasped out Feli before falling silent and a muffled voice was heard over the line. It was Ludwig's, and there was a good amount of pain in it.

"Oh,  _Scheiße_ ," cursed Gilbert, "we'll be right there," he turned off the phone and pocketed it. Elizaveta began to steer him towards the car he'd driven to get them to the dance.

"Well, we have no time to lose," she said, hopping into the passenger seat and buckling herself in. Her legs crossed and she settled comfortably back, meeting Gil's unsure expression with a challenging eyebrow raise. "I'm going with you, Gilbert, I don't care how dangerous it is. I have a dagger, you have your sword. We'll be fine." She patted his arm for a moment, saw him shudder with a breath, and then he was shutting her door and going about to the driver's side.

The engine revved to life beneath them and they whirled away, with Gilbert going perhaps faster than was the speed limit in hopes that his brother would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And what are we thinking?
> 
> I really wanted to get more in touch with the animalistic, biological, instinctual parts of Omegaverse. I hope I did those parts justice, and if not, please let me know. Is Elizaveta believable in this chapter? Or not? What about Gilbert? Review and let me know your thoughts!
> 
> Oh, and I'm thinking of having the next ten chapters be the story of DenNor's relationship. Sorry to leave you all hanging on this cliffhanger, but I want to add some more couples in here, get a wider scope of viewpoints and the like.
> 
> Have a nice school year, y'all. Don't be miserable, please, that's never any fun, all of you are beautiful human beings.


	12. Righteous Indignation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Find out what happened to Ludwig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back, as promised, on a Monday. Y'all better enjoy this, I've put off my homework for it. -_- No, but seriously, thank you for your comments. I adore all of you.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia franchise, characters, all that good, fabulous stuff. Sadly.

_"Know thyself and all will be revealed."_

**―Pamela Theresa Loertscher**

By the time Gilbert and Eliza arrived at the scene, the cops had long since made their own appearances. Their shiny black boots and hats reflected the flickering yellow lights of the subway station, their eyes cool and removed. They were, perhaps ironically, fit for cops, their uniforms tailored to a tee.

Gilbert automatically pulled Eliza closer to him as he saw the swords and daggers adorning the policemen's belts. It was an instinct to protect her that furthered his movements.

Eliza tensed at the action, but didn't remove herself from his grip. Whether or not this was instincts of her own, or a genuine interest in letting Gilbert's Alpha side be soothed was up for debate.

It was fairly obvious where Ludwig had been lying, the stone was still stained a dull shade of red.

Gilbert's own red eyes, which were a good deal more vibrant than the concrete, were flicking hysterically about, aching to find his brother; his precious living sibling. He loved Ludwig, as much as the painful honesty of the boy drove him insane, and he was desperate to find him, the feral nature of protection reeking from him in waves. His brother wasn't there. His brother wasn't there.

Glaring at a passing officer, he made to lunge forward but was held back by Eliza's surprisingly strong grip. She gave him a warning glare before allowing him to move forward at a significantly calmer pace.

"Sir, where is my brother, Ludwig Beilschmidt?" asked the German, fisting his hands open and closed in trying to burn off the energy and terror that was making his chest heave.

"Oh, the injured one? He's been put in intensive care at Lincoln Hospital," he watched, partly intrigued, as the strange German boy cursed, gave a hasty thank you, and wheeled out of there. His mate was still glued to his side. Shaking his head, the Beta man resumed his work of tacking down notes of the crime scene. It was late, the mated pair were being idiotic being so near Yankee Stadium so late at night, and when they'd found them, both were dressed in fairly expensive clothing. The Alpha's was difficult to discern, due in large part to the blood, but the Omega was untouched, and impeccable in a beautiful black Armani suit.

Eliza had to lead Gilbert into the hospital, as the boy was on the verge of passing out from fear for his younger sibling. Nothing of such extremes had happened before, and he knew that his parents had already lost one child. Could they handle the loss of a second? And what if he had to leave his family for Eliza? Would they live through a third son leaving?

The blast of air conditioning that smacked into them as they entered made Gil and Eliza shiver. It was unnatural to have the air conditioning on so far into fall, but that was hardly Gilbert's forefront concern. The sickening sterile smell of the hospital had Elizaveta's stomach churning, and she was wrinkling her nose at the scent, aching to leave the too-clean place. She'd been in hospitals one too many times with her mother, and all of them had been very un-enjoyable experiences.

Gilbert could sense his to-be's discomfort, and he brushed his fingers along her neck after he led her to a chair, comforting her slightly with a small addition of his scent around her neck. Most Omegas calmed at the touch of their Alphas, and they cooled even further when it was the scent that stayed with them. There was no better place to make sure that the smell of Alpha would stay than to have the Alpha in question touch the Omega's neck.

Once he'd found Eliza a spot, and ensured that she was comfortable, though it was fairly obvious that she was getting annoyed with his almost nervous attention, he moved to the counter.

"What room is Ludwig Beilschmidt in?" he asked, hoping to God that somehow the younger boy would have been let out of the intensive care at that point.

"He's still in surgery, honey, I'm sorry," murmured the Beta woman apologetically, her eyes a tableau of remorse. "Please take a seat, and I will be sure to let you know when they release him."

Gil's knees almost buckled from under him and he managed a wan smile before stumbling to the chair next to Eliza and crashing into it, sliding his back against its rough fabric. He leaned forward, his elbows landing on his knees and pushing angrily through his hair, pulling at the strands as if the feeling of pain would somehow snap him out of this horrific nightmare. He was pale, bewildered, panicked, confused, and completely out of his depth.

He needed his father.

And with that, his hand snuck into the same pocket of his costume and slid his phone out. He held it over to where Eliza was sitting.

His Omega understood without words. She reached over, took it carefully from his shaking fingers, and quickly unlocked it before selecting 'Vader' and calling.

The phone rang for a couple of minutes before a sleepy voice picked it up, rough and garbled and cloudy with lethargy.

" _Hallo?"_

Elizaveta took a deep breath. "Mr. Beilschmidt, this is Elizaveta Hédérvary. Your son, Ludwig, is in the hospital."

She heard the sharp inhalation of breath and the frantic rustling of comforter against sheets immediately after her news, as well as the mumbled confusion of Amelina.

"What about Gilbert? Is Gilbert okay?" asked Alfher, his mind immediately jumping from one son to the other. Eliza's lips tugged into a smile, fond of the way the father automatically looked after both of his children.

"Gilbert is fine, sir, but you need to get down here now. We're at Lincoln Hospital, near Yankee Stadium," she murmured before hanging the phone up.

Gilbert didn't peer over, didn't even show any sign of acknowledgement for what she just did.

But he was probably going into a sort of shock, so Eliza didn't comment. She just leaned over and rested her head on his shoulders, nuzzling her nose into his shoulder-blade and closing her eyes, just breathing in her Alpha.

She could feel Gilbert take a shuddering breath, apparently snapping out of whatever daze he'd fallen into, his elbows still on his knees.

"What did he say?"

"He'll be here as soon as he can. It'll all be alright, everything will be okay. Can I call my parents?" she asked him, waiting for his nod of ascent before moving to do so. Normally she wouldn't have asked, but she could tell that Gilbert was balancing on a knife's edge, on one side this carefully managed composure and on the other a lupine rage for whomever had done this to his brother.

She dialed quickly, smashing the phone to her ear, desperate to hear her father's reassuring tone, or her mother's breathy voice.

Her father picked up first, her voice awake and showing that she was waiting up for Eliza to come home. "Where are you, _édesem_?" she asked.

"I'm at the hospital," responded Eliza, quickly beginning to rush the rest of her sentence at her father's, and distantly her mother's, words of concern, "and I'm fine, Gilbert's fine, but his brother isn't. We don't' know what happened, but we're waiting to find out. All we know is that Ludwig's in intensive care. Do you think…" she trailed off, vulnerability warbling at her throat. "Do you think you and mom can come down here? Please?"

Technically, it wasn't her that was being affected by this. She'd barely known Ludwig, after all, but she wanted familiarity around her. Having something so tragic, so terrifying, happen so close to her heat was making her want to surround herself with the warm comfort of things that she knew.

Her mother presumably took the phone from her father, as it was her mother's voice that she was hearing flow soothingly over the line.

"We'll be right there,  _édesem_ , where are you?"

"Lincoln Hospital, over near Yankee Stadium. Please get here quickly." She knew that her mother would understand where she was coming from with this uncharacteristic helplessness. Unfortunately, though Eliza hated it, she knew that this was just what Omegas did around their heats. They grew physically and mentally weaker, desperate for protection and the lovely surety of their Alphas.

Once done with the call, Liz slid the cellphone back into Gilbert's pocket and moved herself into his lap, gently taking his hands and winding her own through his to lift his elbows from his knees. She registered his surprised jolt but didn't care. She wanted to surround herself with him, and she'd be damned if she didn't get what she wished for.

He complied eagerly, surprised at the fact that it was Eliza who initiated the affection this time. His fingers abandoned hers to slide his arms around her, feeling her lithe strength trembling beneath his arms in the muscles of her lower back. His face pressed into her shoulder once more, her fingers wound about his shoulders as she buried her nose into the hair on the side of his head, nuzzling him.

"Ludwig will be fine, Gil," she murmured, her lips brushing against the cartilage of his ear with every word. She knew that she was lying, it was highly likely that Ludwig was far from fine, but she didn't like seeing Gilbert in so much pain. He was supposed to be her strong, annoying, and completely arrogant Alpha, not this terrified, desperate creature that she was clinging to.

…..

When Gilbert's parents found them, they were still in the same place. They'd arrived earlier than expected, though Gilbert supposed it wasn't entirely surprising. His father was highly unlikely to pay attention to the speed limits with a child in the hospital.

The elder Beilschmidt's face darkened at the rather inappropriate position that Gilbert and Elizaveta were in. Gil glared defiantly back at that disapproving gaze, refusing to be cowed.

Sensing tension building in the room, the white-haired Prussian's mother reached to soothe her tense mate, though it didn't seem to have much effect, at least not to the extent that Eliza could manage to calm down Gilbert.

"Gilbert," Gilbert winced at the sound of his name coming from his father's throat. It always sounded uglier when he was displeased, held down by guttural tones of disappointment and disapproval. "I hardly think that the moment after your brother is nearly killed is the time to be pursuing any form of romantic interaction."

Gilbert felt Eliza shift in his arms, those muscles tensing before relaxing. He knew that she would want to speak out, the thought badgered him, but he also knew that he really didn't want her to. Omegas shouldn't speak out against older Alphas. Maybe younger ones, if they really felt the need to, but certainly not the seniors.

His grip tightened warningly about her waist and he carefully met his father's eyes. "I do believe that she will be my mate. I am the one who gets to decide when to show her affection, and she's rather comforting right now." He hated how cold his voice sounded, and the way he spoke about Eliza as if she were a shock blanket, an object for him to use at will.

He could tell that she didn't like it either, as she pulled herself away from him and resumed her previously vacated chair. "My apologies, Mr. Beilschmidt, I was just doing what your son demand of me," she said, head bowed. She knew those words would get Gilbert in trouble, but she didn't care. To hell with him, if he was unwilling to speak up for her when his father chose to put her or their relationship down.

Alfher raised an eyebrow at his son. "Is that so? Gilbert, I am very disappointed in you, and you can be sure that we'll resume this conversation at a later time." He didn't bother to apologize for his son's supposed behavior, it was Eliza's place to be at the service of her future Alpha, after all. And besides, why would he apologize to an  _Omega_  of all creatures?

The two Beilschmidt's took seats on the opposite side of where Eliza and Gilbert were seated. Gilbert could feel the discontent radiating from the Hungarian girl next to him in waves, making him want to both lash out and cringe back at the same time. He hated that she was mad, and he hated that she was mad for a reason that existed in their society.

Elizaveta, however, could feel the righteous indignation and poorly concealed guilt shedding off of Gilbert. But she didn't say or do anything to soothe him. She was done playing mate to the boy. He was going to have to apologize first. Regardless of the fact that she was a day or so from her heat, she was not going to touch him until he acknowledged his mistake.

The Hédérvary's strode into this murky atmosphere not long after the Beilschmidt's. Etel frowned, quickly taking count of her daughter's facial expression and understanding that a feud had happened. Aranka rushed to her little girl and began to pet at her hair, not listening to Eliza's meek protests. The whole family knew that Liz liked the attention from her mother, that she enjoyed being treated like she was younger every once in a while. And with her being this vulnerable, she was probably more susceptible to that desire than she would have been a week ago.

Etel's almond eyes flowed from Eliza's stoney expression to Gilbert's equally flinty intensity. And she resolved to just not get involved. It wasn't her problem, and if the two couldn't figure it out on their own, than they would just have to move on from one another. She then looked with distaste at Gilbert's father. She knew that he was probably a perfectly fine parent in his own right, but she didn't like what he'd raised Gilbert to be.

So she made it a point to sit next to the moody teens, allowing her mate to sit next to Elizaveta. A magazine was picked up from the table in front of her and she began to read, eyes skipping over words with very little interest.

She didn't know why Eliza was insisting on staying, especially considering the Beilschmidt's didn't really like her, but she wasn't going to question her Omega daughter outright. Surely Liz had her reasons.

After thirty minutes of forced conversation, so painfully awkward it was much like plucking notes from a guitar's unwilling strings, the secretary motioned to the group.

"You can go see him now. He's in room 312, in the back of the hospital and down the first hall on your right."

Gilbert was first down the hall, his training having kept him in superb shape. His father wasn't far behind, and then there was Elizaveta before a harried looking Amelina. Aranka and Etel took their time.

…..

What greeted Gilbert upon skidding into the hospital room was a truly catastrophic sight.

There was Ludwig, supported by an intimidating mountain of fluffy white pillows. The purple, swelling roundness of a black eye was one of the many bruises dotting his face, though it appeared to be the most severe. His normally very carefully maintained hair was down, the gel that he slathered into it having disappeared in the fight. He had a swollen lip, a chin that looked like it had been cut off a slab of concrete, and a darker brown, bordering on red bruise on his left cheek.

Looking at his knuckles, they were dark, and barely scabbing over. Bruises dotted them like little galaxies, swirling from a pus yellow on the edges of their rings to a rotten plum purple in the center.

Gilbert had no wish to find out what else could have been done to his little brother that was currently being hidden from him, and he quickly slid to his knees by his sibling's bed, dying to reach out and take Ludwig's hand but too scared to do so, for fear that he'd hurt him further.

Feliciano was on the other side of Ludwig's bed, rings of red around his eyes as a sign that he'd been crying. His nose was still snuffling, and there was a certain  _joie de vivre_  that was lacking from his appearance. He looked relieved to see the Beilschmidt family spill into the room, but he didn't say anything much, which was disastrously unnatural for an Omega as peppy and open as Feliciano was.

"Feli-" spoke up Gilbert, his voice cracking sharply before he cleared it and started again. "Feliciano, what happened. Could you tell us?" No one had seen a doctor in the room when they'd all tumbled in, and no one would likely no what had happened better than the Italian Omega anyway.

There was at first just a sniffle, and then the boy began to speak. "Ludwig didn't want to go to the dance. He wanted to show me how lovely, and hollow, and empty Yankee Stadium was late at night. And it was, oh, it was very pretty. On the way back, we ran into Mathias and Lukas, you know, the Danish and Norwegian pair. They were kissing a lot, until Ludwig spoke up. He wasn't happy that they were so open in public, and then he insulted Lukas." Feliciano's head bowed in shame, a sort of second-hand embarrassment for his mate. "Mathias didn't like that, so he attacked. Ludwig forgot that Mathias is a Senior, and this is what we get," Feli gestured helplessly at his motionless German Alpha, bottom lip trembling a moment before he dropped his face into the starched white sheets of the hospital bed.

Alfher's face was thunderous. "How dare Mathias attack Ludwig! My son was just reminding them of the rules."

Gilbert's shoulders rolled, partly out of indignation for his brother, and partly out of frustration towards his father. Mathias had every right to attack Ludwig. Being so illicit so late at night was completely forgivable. Ludwig shouldn't have said anything; Ludwig was being foolhardy and overbearing when he'd stepped between the two.

"It was Ludwig's fault,  _Vader_ ," said Gilbert resignedly, hearing his father's sharp inhalation of air. "I know what you're thinking, how could our precious Ludwig ever do anything wrong?" Bitterness rang out in a trembling chord with his voice. Ludwig had always been a tad more favored than Gilbert. "You don't insult another Alpha's Omega. You just don't. Mathias was well within his rights to attack Ludwig, and I doubt that you'd win with your case in court," he cast a sidelong gaze at his father's tumultuous expression. "Just drop it and accept that your son isn't your perfect little carbon copy." He spat finally.

Alfher stepped forward, a threatening motion, as if to hurt Gilbert for his insolence, but he was stopped by the sudden gasp of breath that emanated from his younger son on the hospital bed.

Gilbert was immediately forgotten as his parents crowded around the injured Ludwig, who had been too long under his father's overbearing influence. If his younger brother continued along his route, than he would be in for a hell of a lot more punishment than getting beaten up by an Alpha who was a Senior at their school.

He pulled Feliciano aside, feeling bad for taking the Omega from his mate, but desperately wanting to know what exactly Ludwig had said to Mathias.

"He said," started Feli, "'your Omega looks rather experienced for one who has not been mated yet.'"

Gilbert winced. Ludwig had implied that Lukas was a whore who had sold himself to Alphas other than Mathias. "Why would he say something so  _dumm_?" muttered Gilbert sharply under his breath. Thanking Feliciano hastily, he allowed the Omega to return to Ludwig's bedside. He was too furious with his brother's actions to want to join his family, a stark contrast to how he'd been not minutes earlier.

His next job of the night was to deal with Elizaveta. He knew he'd hurt her feelings earlier, and from what he'd seen of the path that Ludwig was following, he needed to acknowledge Omegas in relationships as equals more often than he was comfortable with.

"Eliza," he murmured, trying for a wan smile as she looked at him suspiciously, "come into the hallway with me,  _ja_?" he asked her, pleased when she sighed and followed him out of the dreary and very crowded room.

"My parents are not happy, Gilbert," she murmured, shuffling her feet along the linoleum tile of the hospital. "Your family is so… conservative. I don't know what they're going to do, but our pairing may be in jeopardy…" she trailed off, running a hand along the walls now, feeling their grainy texture beneath the pads of her fingers.

Gilbert was alarmed. "Nein! They can't do that." He could feel the desperation and panic sliding from him, but he didn't care. "I love you too much, Eliza. I can't…" he trailed off, seeing the confusion and concern for him in her eyes. Shaking himself, he quickly took composure.

"I ought to defend you more often, Eliza, and I apologize for what I said earlier. My father is myopic at best, and I have no need to be ashamed of you. You are…" he drew a deep breath, closing his eyes and grinding his jaws together a moment. "You are so beautiful, and strong, and smart, and you deserve so much more than me. But I know that I'm always going to be too selfish to give you up. I'm sorry for any future blunders, Liz, or any past that I have forgotten. I can't… I can't accept this new order so easily, you've seen how Ludwig acts. You've seen how his mind works. In many was, that's how my mind works. I need time to-to comprehend this new relationship of ours, and the only thing I can ask is that you will be happy to stick around with me." Once done with his heartfelt, but rather corny speech, he waited with bated breath to see what Eliza's response would be.

Her lips wriggled for a moment from the straight face she was trying to maintain, before eventually breaking free into a full-blown smile. "Of course I will, Gilbert. And I'm sorry for what I said too."

The conflict was quickly resolved and Gilbert leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to Eliza's lips. "Can I ask you something?" he murmured.

Eliza nodded her head in assent.

"Would you let me spend your heat with you?"

Eliza's mouth fell open and she seemed conflicted. "Haven't we always just assumed that you would?" she asked, bewilderment lacing her voice.

Gilbert flushed. "Well,  _ja_ , but I wanted to ask to make sure that you were okay with it."

Elizaveta laughed, a delighted, pleased, amused laugh that echoed down the empty, spacious halls. "Of course, Gil, I would love to have you with me during my heat." And with that, she pulled him into another kiss, though this one was a good bit less maidenly than their earlier one.

It was this outright snogging in the hallway that Gilbert's father walked into. Ludwig had just slipped back under the fogginess of the pain medication, and so the man was heading back home to get necessities so that he could spend the night with his son.

Gilbert was snapped back so hard by the back of his costume, that his back smacked into the opposite wall. "I have  _had it with you_ ," snarled Alfher, thoroughly disgusted with his son's mannerisms. "You have no respect for your brother, and you were just doing the one thing, the one thing that got him landed in that  _verdammten_  hospital bed." The older German was steaming under the harsh white lights of the hospital hallway.

Etel rushed out of the door and gathered Elizaveta behind her, not wanting her daughter to be injured in the proceedings. And knowing her daughter, Eliza would probably attempt to throw herself in the way of any blows that would fall Gilbert's direction.

Gilbert knew that his father was lashing out against the situation that he couldn't control, hating this helpless sensation, and he knew that he was a channel through which Alfher could release a fair amount of that pent-up energy.

"I've had it. You are not going to mate with that slut of an Omega who has had such an obviously poor affect on your levelheadedness. She spends time with that Beta, what's to say that she hasn't let him spend one of her heats with her? Disgusting, and I refuse to have such filth in our family line."

Alfher had made the same mistake his son had, though this one to a greater extent, and with two people who could probably do him a great amount of harm in the vicinity.

And all because he was lost, out of his depth, and angry at the world for what was happening to his family.

Gilbert refused to put up with it, and he and Etel simultaneously lunged forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty. So that's Chapter Twelve! Yay.
> 
> Next chapter will be up next Monday, hopefully.
> 
> Comment, Review, Bookmark, Hate, unBookmark, I don't know. Be yourself. Be Eliza.
> 
> Have a lovely day.
> 
> Oh, and how are your schools going? (If you're still in school. If not, than you are one lucky fucker.)


	13. Intricacies of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Hetalia franchise.

_"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own."_

**―** **Robert , _Stranger in a Strange Land_**

Gilbert had fought with his father before, it was hardly an unnatural phenomenon. But he'd never fought with him with such an intense desire to inflict permanent injury. He didn't want to kill him, certainly not that, but he wanted to give the man a scar that would make him remember not to screw with Gilbert and his mate ever again.

As their swords rang and clashed and shrieked with the deadly ferocity that was feeding into them through the hands of their wieldesr, the medical staff rushed forward. No one knew how to stop the situation—no one was willing to put themselves between the two fighting Alphas after all—and so one of the only solutions to the problem was tranquilizers.

But they weren't in that side of the hospital, as a particularly upset Alpha who had just found out about the death of his mate had required a good amount of them before the staff could take him down. So they had nothing better to do than sit and wait for the nurse who had been sent off to find them to return.

His mother's sobbing voice, cracking with her pathetic efforts to get her two men to calm down was a dull throbbing in the back of Gilbert's mind. He knew that his father was probably more attuned to the distress of his mate, and was surprised that the man didn't immediately turn to take care of her, as his Alpha instincts would urge him to otherwise.

Elizaveta, perhaps unsurprisingly, wasn't making a sound. She wasn't one to protest violence, after all, but Gilbert had thought that she'd attempt to throw herself into the fray.

He could only assume that Etel was holding her daughter back, as the other Alpha had lunged at the same time he did.

Perhaps it was ironic that he was fighting with his father in the guise of the Teutonic Knights, who had a moral code that was above fighting with kin. But Gilbert couldn't stand to hear his father call his future mate such names.

No one was allowed to insult Elizaveta like that, and he would be there to make sure that they refrained from doing so.

Before the tranquilizers could arrive, however, Gilbert was eventually bested by his father. It wasn't a surprise, really, considering that the man had at least five years of training on his son. And Gilbert hadn't even graduated high school yet.

Gilbert was backed up against the wall, his father's sword pressing dangerously close to his throat. His Adam's apple rose and fell with the force of his nervous swallow, though he fought to hold his father's gaze, reluctant to show fear in the face of such a threat.

Alfher's lips knit up into a sneer. "What do you say, son? Give up Eliza? Or shall I take something a bit more precious?" as if he were going to follow through on his threat, he pulled a dagger from his boot quickly and easily, as if he'd had practice in these kinds of situations. And for all Gil knew, he probably had. The dagger was lifted to Gilbert's face, hovering dangerously close to his skin as if it were ready to pierce through and leave as nasty a scar as what Alfher seemed to be implying.

Gilbert eventually chose to break eye contact with the older man, his red eyes shifting to where Eliza stood behind Alfher. She knew without even really having to speak with Gilbert—could see the desperation in his eyes—and immediately her own flicked to where his sword was lying feet behind Alfher, who had been careless in his haste to disarm his son.

She stepped silently forward—light-footed as a sword fighter—and expertly took the sword in her hand. Her dagger wouldn't be of much use in this situation, but a sword could pack a wallop behind it if necessary.

Shifting it about in her palm until she got herself a comfortable hold, her eyes narrowed with a determination akin to that of ivy when it scaled a cottage. She was going to conquer this situation, and then she would protect Gilbert from his vile family for as long as they both lived.

She promised that much to him.

With the speed of a snake, she slid suddenly forward and rapped the flat of the blade harshly against Alfher's head before following through with a sharp snap of the butt of it to a tender area between his shoulder blades, effectively dropping the Alpha.

She threw the weapon to Gilbert, who caught it easily and flipped his father's sword into his other palm. He bent low, his knees crunching into his father's palms on the floor and his swords held in a threatening scissor formation on either side of Alfher's throat.

"What will it be,  _vater_?" whispered Gilbert viciously, perhaps with a gleam of victory in those siren red eyes. "Let me have Eliza? Or shall I take something a bit more precious?" he shoved the man's words back to him with a malicious joy all of his own.

Alfher's eyes were tapered, and he kept his mouth sealed. Gilbert decided to press for an answer ,leaning forward on his swords so that they dug into the sides of Alfher's neck, leaving tiny lines that implied skin had been broken.

Little beads of blood sprung up around the shiny, smooth metal.

A flicker of movement out of the corner of Gilbert's eye let him know that Eliza had gone to retrieve his father's dagger, and was unsheathing her own from where it hung at her hip. She came up behind Gilbert, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from her.

He could feel the coiled restraint in the tense atmosphere around her body, could understand that it was taking every ounce of will in her to not lunge forward and finish off Gilbert's father herself.

But she knew, and Gilbert knew, that to see him dead would be the end of the world for Gil. As much as he and his father clashed heads, he could still remember the man pressing a surprisingly affectionate kiss to his forehead as Gilbert came home crowing about how amazing he was at sword fighting, how he was one of the best in the school. He could remember the man's unwavering patience when it came to teaching him how to even hold a sword in the first place; the calm surety of him as he repeated to Gilbert  _just one more time_  that he was not a monster, an abomination. He was a beautiful creature, strong, and dangerous. A boy—an Alpha—who would be a forced to be reckoned with.

When he looked in those blank blue eyes he saw a little boy who had lost himself, a little boy who was treated with perhaps a little less love and affection than Gilbert had received as a child. He could see his father cowering back in the shadowy corner as his Omega mother stepped forward, an old, cracked leather belt coiled in her hand. He could see the boy struggling to hold a sword, forcing himself to gain muscle mass, and endurance, and skill.

He could see just how broken his father was inside.

Swallowing, Gilbert stood up, the swords clattering to the ground. "I'm not you,  _Vater_. Take  _Mutter_  and go." He shook his head, feeling the confusion rolling off of Eliza and hoping to God that she didn't confront him on why he'd backed off when he so obviously had the upper hand.

He could see the rush of breath practically make his mother tumble to the floor, noticed the faint flicker of morose regret in his dad's eyes before Gilbert turned away and allowed Etel and Aranka to guide him out of the hospital.

It was a silent agreement that he would not be returning to the Beilschmidt home. Not for a good while anyway.

Eliza took the wheel on the way back to her house, once more surprising Gil with a skill that she shouldn't have had. But he didn't remark on it, though it irked him a little, his heart just wasn't in it. He took up the passenger seat and watched with emotionless eyes as the scenery rolled past. He wasn't sure why he wasn't crying—if it was a mixture of horror and anger or just an inability to understand what had just happened—but he knew that the tears weren't coming. That he couldn't feel anything.

In one night, he'd lost his family.

The headlights of the car splashed across the Hédérvary front yard before Eliza parked the car in the drive way, just after her parents had pulled into the garage. Their startling light was unforgiving in the blanket of darkness that was trying to push it back, glaring harshly out at the outline of the old, abandoned play set in the backyard and the fuzzy edge of a pot on the very outside of the lights radius.

Before them, the edge of the house was being caught at, the red brick and white wood of it illuminating unevenly.

The sound of Eliza hopping out of the car had Gilbert moving out as well, slamming it shut and not even waiting to hear the sound of her locking it.

Elizaveta kept behind him, for once not pressing him for answers. She knew that he needed space at the moment; that he'd come to her when he was ready. In the time between she could just make sure that she was always available.

Gilbert made his way through the house, feeling Aranka's concerned eyes crawl along his stoic face but not caring much as he sprinted immediately up the stairs and into Eliza's bedroom. He didn't know if he was still welcome to sleep in there, or if he would be re-allocated to a guest bedroom, but he wasn't willing to mull over it too much.

The faint murmuring of Hungarian curled its way up the stairs, sliding and wrapping about Gilbert's ears and gently, unwittingly, lulling the Prussian to sleep.

While Gilbert flew off like the famed Prussian eagle, Elizaveta stuck behind to talk to her parents. They were conversing in Hungarian—a norm in their household—and Etel was being surprisingly sympathetic about the situation.

"Oh the poor boy," said Aranka, her warm chocolate eyes following his heels up the stairs before he disappeared from sight. Eliza could feel the instinct in her mother to go up and comfort the Alpha she'd come to think of as her own child, and she knew how it felt to have to quell it. She was experiencing the same urge to comfort the Prussian she considered her mate at the very same moment.

Etel cleared her throat, snapping both concerned Omega's attention to her. "He will be fine, Aranka. Eliza, what happened at the dance?" she asked, curious to know what had made her daughter so strongly attached to the Prussian boy that she had been explosively cursing out earlier on in the school year.

Eliza's tanned face flushed and she leaned back against the smooth brown marble of the countertop behind her. She was standing by the stainless steel sink. The pantry was to her right, the doors painted a lovely dark brown. On the left side of the sink was where one would find the dishwasher, and on the other side of the island from where Eliza was standing, was the fridge, just next to the stove. The floors were hardwood, with a mahogany colored mat in front of the sink.

"If you're wondering what changed between us,  _apu_ , it's a complicated thing. He… Well, he did several things. And one of those things was apologizing for the way he is, even though it isn't entirely his fault. He promised that he's going to change for me," Etel's face softened at the look of complete and utter adoration and  _love_  in her beautiful daughter's eyes.

She doubted that any other Alpha would ever have been able to garner that expression, that reaction, from Elizaveta.

"He's so much humbler than he used to be. You saw what he asked me to do with his father. A week ago,  _pokol_ , even a night ago, he wouldn't have done that. He wouldn't have wanted to admit that I am as strong as him. He's a well-meaning person, and he is working so hard on changing."

"Do you love him?" asked Aranka then, startling both Etel and Eliza. Etel reacted by reaching her arm around her beautiful mate's waist and tugging her into her side. She was losing her daughter to Gilbert, that much was obvious, and she was taking a bit of guilty solace in the firm steadiness of her mate.

Eliza didn't wait a beat for her response. " _Igen_. Without a doubt."

Aranka's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, my baby girl," the woman murmured, her tongue rolling over the Hungarian words with such a tooth achingly fond tone that it made Eliza want to burst into tears.

Before Eliza knew it, she was pulled into hugs by both of her parents. She could feel her mother shaking against her, no doubt crying as silently as she could. She knew that her father was holding back the emotions—to be the rock for their family—but that after Elizaveta went up to bed, they would both find comfort in one another's arms.

She spent another good thirty minutes with her family, laughing and sniffling with them over memories that were a mixture of hilarious, embarrassing, and heartwrenchingly in the past.

"And do you remember that time that you fell off of the swing, Eliza? Oh, you were so young, and so indignant at that poor swing that you began to try to tear it off the tree branch." Aranka laughed breathlessly. "I had to call your father to come and calm you down, as you refused to listen to me then."

Etel was chuckling, as was Eliza. It was a moment that the girl could remember, but only faintly.

"Remember when you left the toast in the toaster too long, and the bread caught on fire?" said Eliza to her father, cracking up with her mother as Etel flushed a wonderful crimson.

"That was not my fault! The timer didn't go off!"

"It did,  _anu_ , it did!" gasped out Eliza from where she was doubled over cackling her head off.

Aranka was the next to be embarrassed, which was a punishment led out in due course.

"Oh yeah? Do I need to remind you both about that time your mother tried, and might I add failed, to change your diaper, Eliza? I was the only one who could change it. Aranka was an utter klutz when it came to you."

Aranka broke into hysterical laughter before slapping Etel's hand, which was resting on her hip. "Dirty diapers are nasty, what can I say," she shrugged, her eyes falling on the uncomfortable Eliza.

At her parents amused expressions, Liz rather childishly stuck her tongue out. "That is nasty, thank you very much."

And then she saw Aranka start to get emotional again—no doubt remembering child Elizaveta—and the Hungarian girl was eager to leave the room.

" _Jó éjt anyu, apu Goodnight_ ," she said before kissing them both on the cheek, giving a final hug, and disappearing up the stairs, after the same path that Gilbert had taken thirty minutes earlier.

As she climbed the steps, she thought over how different she had been as a child. Her parents worked hard to tame her—make her a good Omega—but they were an eccentric, odd couple anyway. Her two older brothers—long out of college now—were the ones who'd taught her to sword fight, yes, but it was at her father's insistence. And she had never heard of any other child, be they Omega or Alpha, who spoke of their  _Alpha_  parent changing their diapers instead of their Omega one.

When Elizaveta made it to her door, the first thing she noticed was that it was open. The second thing she saw, and this would be a memory that she would never forget, was Gilbert.

He looked carved out of marble as the moonlight cast its milky curtains over his eyelids. The pale light bleached his skin, and reflected artfully against his hair. His lips were curved into a natural expression of relaxation, a slight frown tugging at their edges as if he were having a dream that was nudging at him. He was still in the clothes he'd worn to the dance, and hadn't even had the time to get under Elizaveta's covers. His eyelids were closed, his browbone throwing little crescents of shadow over each divet where those cerise eyes were so often observing. The same shadows that played along his hollows carved along the lines and curves that made up his muscles, and cheekbones, sculpting out his nose from the perfection that could be described as his face.

Elizaveta realized that she didn't deserve this man. Though he was old-fashioned, she knew that he would change for her. He loved her (and she him) and she knew that of all the Alphas who were to be her intended, he was by far the best match for her.

She strode, light as a cat, across her room, her feet digging softly into the soft tan of her long-stranded carpet. Her bed sat on the left wall, a rather large window positioned with a bit of the bedpost peeking over it to the right and on the wall directly across from the door. When one looked to the right, they would find a beat-up wooden desk and a closet door.

On the walls were posters of bands, and taped on stickers of friends, and photos of things that Eliza found beautiful.

And as Eliza crawled into her bed, smiling as Gilbert, very much half-asleep, reached out for her and nuzzled his face into her shoulder, the new photos of her mate spoke of a happier time up on the wall, their sleepy eyes peering lazily out at a world that was in their future.

When Elizaveta woke up the next morning, it was to the sight of Gilbert sitting on her bed with his back against the soft blue wall, twiddling one of her daggers absently in his dexterous fingers.

He was gazing at the photos adorning the opposite side of the room, seeing but not processing.

Eliza took the time to just watch him, the figure he cut in the soft dawn colors of the morning, blurring the lines of his jaw and nose and lips. His eyes were as hard as they had been last night, however, as if he were forcing a part of him down so that she wouldn't have to see the pain that was tearing at him from inside.

" _Guten Morgen, Engel_ ," he said, his voice croaking the words out as if he were trying to speak through a frog in his throat.

Liz sat up slowly, still sluggish. " _Jó reggelt, drágám_ ," she knew that he wouldn't understand a lot of what she was saying past her 'good morning' but she hoped that he could feel the affection in that last word, in her 'darling.'

He didn't say anything after that, and she hesitated. What should she do? Should she approach him, or leave him be, as she'd promised herself she would just last night? But it was so hard to put those things into practise, and seeing him so torn apart was not easy.

In the end, he made it easy for her.

"I know why he hates Omegas so much," he murmured then, still not looking at her.

She didn't know that he couldn't bear to look at a woman he loved so wholeheartedly, for fear that she too would turn her back on him.

She waited patiently for him to continue, not making any movements toward him, though it took her a good deal of resoluteness.

"His mother beat him, Lizzie. With a belt, or whatever she had on hand. God, how could I have been so stupid?" he murmured, throwing the dagger so hard that when it twanged into the red circle of the bullseye, it vibrated there for a moment. He bowed his head so that he was gripping and pulling at his white hair with all the force of his anger.

Elizaveta snapped forward and wrapped her hands around Gilbert's, gently unwinding the fingers from his hair and pressing each to her lips for a kiss.

"Gilbert, it is not your fault," she murmured once she'd calmed him down, as every Alpha was apt to calm down when their Omega paid them so much attention.

"That doesn't excuse what he said to you, or what he said to me, or what he's taught you and your brother. He was the one who put Ludwig in that hospital bed." She knew that she was hurting Gilbert with each and every one of her words, but they were words that had to be said. A shattered past didn't pardon a horrendous present, or an even drearier future. She needed to make sure that Gilbert couldn't start just blowing off his father's actions as the angered retaliation of a lost childhood.

"He hates me now, doesn't he?"

"Oh, that's nonsense, Gil. A father can never hate their son, especially one as brilliant and amazing as you. He'll either come around or he won't, but he isn't everything. You have the ability to make a life of your own, don't throw it away because of your father's past. He chose his future, now it's time for you to choose yours."

He looked at her, then, for the first time that morning.

There was something completely innocent in those red eyes, doe-eyed and childish. Pure and untouched.

"I miss them," he smothered a keen of pain low in his throat, but Eliza could still hear it. She knew that he was suffering.

And so she acted on instinct, every muscle of her body singing for her to pull him forward and tuck his head into her neck, her thighs moving to straddle both sides of his hips. She could smell the misery on him, felt it in the way he slackened against her, just falling into her arms and drowning in her scent.

She pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear before moving her cheek into his white hair and closing her eyes. Her heart ached for this boy, this confused Alpha who had no clue what to do now that he'd been practically expelled from his family.

She could feel his tears sliding, a comforting warmth, over her shoulder, down her back, and through her clothes. And she didn't move, just rested on top of him, the fingers of her left hand moving absently up and down his well-toned back.

It was a good ten minutes before he seemed to get it all out of his system. Pulling back from her shoulder, he peered up at her through eyes that were rimmed with a red reminiscent of the hue of his eyes.

"Thank you,  _meine Eliza_ ," he murmured, before falling silent, his eyes sliding shut and his face scrunching a minute.

Then his muscles tensed beneath the skin, cording and twining. He was a statue of struggling control.

"Gilbert?" asked Eliza uncertainly, not entirely sure of what was happening. His arms were snugly around her now.

"Good  _Gott_ , Eliza, you smell…" he trailed off, ducking his head down to her and taking his time with his next inhale. "I think you're in heat, darling," his teeth were gritted, his eyes flicking from her to a spot on the wall behind her.

Eliza chuckled softly, teasingly shifting on his lap and being rewarded with a low growl in response. "Nope, just in preheat, Gil. I've still got a few hours. It gets more intense as I draw closer to the big shebang." She was pleased that he was temporarily distracted from his family situation.

"Let's go get some breakfast, yes?" she suggested, not really waiting for his reply before she was up and off the bed, with his hand in hers, and dragging him down the staircase.

"I saw my pictures on your wall," he purred in her ear as they came to a skidding halt at the foot of the staircase, his ego evidently back in full force. Gilbert was rewarded with the satisfying sight of the tips of Eliza's ears turning red.

"I am truly a gorgeous creature, aren't I?" he sighed, shaking his head. "My awesomeness is almost too much for your room."

Eliza slapped him lightly, noticing the way his eyes shifted a moment.

Oh yes, acceptance would be hard for him.

He was guided into the kitchen, where Etel was sitting with a newspaper and coffee and Aranka was reading over her shoulder, a coffee of her own cupped snugly in her hand.

" _Jó reggelt_ , Gilbert and Eliza," said Etel without even glancing up from the text in front of her.

Aranka, however, snapped her head to stare at the two. "Since when did you two decide to spend Eliza's heat together?" she asked, causing Etel to very slowly and very intimidatingly set the paper down on the warm brown dinner table.

Gilbert swallowed and nervously wiped his hands on his outfit from yesterday.

Elizaveta spoke up before he could.

"Since I decided that I wanted to mate with him,  _anya_ ," she said, an erratic tempo beating its painful way through her heart.

Etel frowned deeper, but said nothing. She had technically agreed to this with Gilbert. She'd just hoped that her daughter would be more willing to directly tell her that sort of thing. Or even for Gilbert to bring it up. But she wasn't going to take away either of their happiness over such a petty thing.

Aranka's face broke into a wide smile. "I'm going to have grandchildren!" she quipped, clapping her hands together excitedly before pointedly tweaking Etel's ear.

The Alpha took the hint and huffily swatted her mate's hand away. "Yes, yes, so be it." She paused a moment, looking over the two before a devilish smirk found its way to her lips. "These had better be some great looking grandchildren, Eliza, or I shall be disappointed in both your and Gilbert's genes."

Aranka and Etel snickered as the two teenagers before them flushed and shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, now that you've decided to mate with someone, I shall have to find some temporary accommodations for your mother and me. I have no interest in hearing your antics." Etel made a disgusted face before tucking her newspaper under her arm, taking her coffee with the same hand, and then successfully dragging her beautiful mate out of the room with the other empty one.

She left a very confused and very uncomfortable Gilbert and Elizaveta in her wake.

Gil eventually turned to Eliza a minute later, a smirk of his own on his face. "We would make some damn good-looking babies though, Lizzie."

Elizaveta blinked owlishly at him a moment before laughing. "I think so, Gilbert," she murmured before swaying past him, instincts telling her to be as seductive as possible, towards the freezer where the Eggo Waffles could be found.

She had a bit of an obsession when it came to the frozen breakfast treats, and she could totally feel Gilbert's eyes on her butt. She knew she was playing dirty, but it was hardly her fault when she couldn't quite fight nature so close to her heat.

Though, she didn't hear a peep of complaint from the Prussian Alpha.

By the time the waffles were done, she could feel her pheromones strengthening in the air, and she saw Gilbert's hands reach out to grip the countertop. It was endearing, how he was trying so desperately to keep himself in check. No doubt he'd never even considered it before, but now that she'd gotten so close with him, he respected her enough to let her initiate first contact.

They ate their breakfast in a very loaded silence.

At 11:00 AM they returned to Eliza's room.

At 11:30, her parents left.

At 12:00, she was hit with the full force of her heat. It made her thoughts blend together until she could only think of one thing, one person, one Alpha.

" _Gilbert_ ," she moaned, her world a shifting array of colors and warmth and a desperate sensation curling low in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't had time to make a nest, what with Gilbert's drama, and so she began eagerly reaching out for the Alpha who was now staring at her with all the hunger and desire that was to be expected in this situation.

She didn't have to ask again before he was hovering above her, his head dipping to run his teeth and tongue along her neck, feeling her sigh and press her skin against him.

She wanted him to mark her, was waiting for those teeth to sink into her neck and claim her as his. She wanted him to be possessive, and demanding, and unforgiving.

She wanted an Alpha who would take what was essentially his property and make no apologies about it, a far cry from how she was in her normal day-to-day life.

But then again, heat's didn't necessarily make you sensible, or even remotely sane.

And so, as he began to slide her clothes from her hot skin, she returned the favor, her eyes and fingers feasting hungrily on every inch of him that was exposed to her, the strength of his body beneath her hands, the padded skin over the unforgiving muscles beneath.

And as her world melted into heated kisses and tender movements, the passion of desperation and the teeth and delicious pain of nips along her neck, she fell blithely into Gilbert's arms and for perhaps the first time in her life let an Alpha rule her.

There was a conscious part of her in the back of her mind that knew this was only a temporary distraction, that eventually they would have to return to the real world where abused children turned into possessive parents, where Civil Rights was a near impossibility, and where Gilbert would return to an existence that didn't have Ludwig, Amelina, or Alfher in it.

But there was a time to think about those sorts of things, and as Gilbert's teeth sank deliciously into her neck, rightfully marking her as his, she knew that now was not that time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! The end to Chapter 12.
> 
> Rant Time Guys
> 
> Right-o. So here we go. Now, if you haven't seen one of my newest stories, than that's totally cool. But an anonymous reviewer posted on my story, Eyes and Lips, that he doesn't understand why people ship USUK/UKUS because they're brothers, and though I'm taking a bit of artistic license with tacking this on, that he considers the ship disgusting.
> 
> Now, on that story's description I specifically put "UKUS oneshot." So this reviewer can't have claimed that he was mislead into believing that there would be pairings between France and England or America and other countries. And this reviewer was completely childish in his complaints. If you don't like the ship, than don't read the fanfiction, and don't waste the author's time with stupid comments saying "this ship is so ridiculous. They're both brothers."
> 
> Because I will have you know that in Hetalia England and America are not referred to as brothers. It's highly unlikely that England had any time for America, and if one were to look into the history of the United States, one would find points in its period as colony where England had a hands-off policy when it came to the United States colonies. In fact, it was the loss of the hands-off policy that had the Revolutionary War erupting. Do you really think that England had all the time in the world to devote to America? Hell to the no. He had other colonies, other places of the world to conquer. He had his own country of England to worry about, as revolutions were rising up there as well. How stupid do you have to be to read a fucking fanfiction that has UKUS on it and complain about the stupidity of the ship. If you don't like the ship than don't fucking read it and I will say it time and time again. Don't. Fucking. Read. It.
> 
> Also, if you don't like the ship, don't piss other people, particularly shippers of it, off by stating that it's "weird," or "unnatural," or "disgusting." Because it's ridiculous. Does what they like affect you in any way? No? Well then leave it alone and move your sorry ass along. There are better things to concern yourself over than whether this random stranger on the internet cares for the same OTP that you have. If they didn't initiate the argument over whether or not FrUK or USUK/UKUS is better than just leave it fucking be and move on with your day.
> 
> Jesus Christ, is it that hard?
> 
> End of rant.
> 
> Have a lovely day!


	14. This is Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies!
> 
> First, I would like to apologize for not updating this last week. I just could not write this chapter for some reason. it didn't feel quite right. This one is so much of a better version than the original draft, and even with that it isn't that good. So, I apologize in advance and vow to try harder with the next one.
> 
> Second, when I rewrote it, I was half asleep, so if there are any logic errors please let me know. I am way too tired to fully edit this now.
> 
> Third, thank you for your comments. All of them were very helpful, and they made me smile. So two bonuses guys! And thank you for reading my rant. xD I just had to get it off my chest, ya know?
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Hetalia Franchise. *Le grand gasp of surprise*

_"Arguments are to be avoided, they are always vulgar and often convincing."_

**―Oscar Wilde**

Eliza was finally pulled from the fog of heat mid-afternoon October 31st. Gilbert was sleeping on top of her, a completely dominant and completely Alpha move. His hips were bordered on either side by her legs, his cheek stuck on the pillow next to her and just over her right shoulder, face turned towards her. White hair tickled at her cheek and she took a moment to breathe in the musky smell of him, a mixture of sweat, sex, and delicious Alpha pheromones.

When Eliza tried to slide out from under him, however, a soft rumble vibrated from his chest and he pressed his nose to his mark on her neck, smirking as she gasped. She was still as sensitive to his touch as she was during the heat, and so her mark was doubly so.

"Where would you be going,  _engel_?" he purred against the conjunction of her shoulder and throat, his teeth nipping lightly at the skin around her mark, bringing it to more prominence.

"To get some lunch," she murmured, though her tone was a whisper of its normal nature.

Her arms curled around his lean body, feeling the muscles flex and bend beneath her arms as he kissed her skin. Maybe lunch could wait…

A couple of hours later, and a good deal more content and at ease, Eliza led Gilbert down the stairs. She'd tossed him some pants and shirts that had been left by her elder Alpha brothers, and had quickly donned sweatpants and a black tank top for herself. Her hair was left down, she knew that she smelled horrible and it was probably gross and greasy, but she was too lazy to do anything about it.

Perhaps because of the fact that she was so thoroughly covered with her Alpha's scent, or perhaps because of the fact that she'd just had another round of pretty wonderful sex, Eliza was a lot calmer and more affectionate than normal around Gilbert.

Either way, when they were working on pancakes in the kitchen, Eliza was always very eager to be wrapped up in Gilbert's arms, often sidling over to him after checking their breakfast and sliding her arms up his chest and around his shoulders before tugging herself against him. She didn't know why she was being so clingy, but to Gil's credit, he didn't make a single complaint.

They sat down for a late lunch of pancakes, syrup placed in the middle of the table by Gilbert's steady hand.

Eliza was embarrassed with how vulnerable she felt away from her Alpha, but she didn't fight against her nature for once. It wasn't as if Gilbert was going to harm her, or turn her away. And it was a completely natural reaction. So she inched her chair closer to him until she could feel his body heat radiating onto her. It was just the after effects of her heat, and she would endure them for a day or so more before everything went away and her body began to gear up for the next one.

They both finished their pancakes in record time, each having been starving, before returning to the upstairs. One of Gilbert's arms rested around Eliza's waist, and the Omega took comfort in the secure heaviness of the appendage.

Eliza took the first shower, having seen Gilbert's eyes darkening as he remembered the situation he was currently in with his family. She opted to give him some time to himself after days of being completely out of it.

While Eliza showered, Gilbert was perched on her bed, the nest still standing. It was a sturdy one, and supremely well made for an Omega who was only a Junior in high school. He could see the outfit he'd worn to the dance interwoven in one of the sides, and a small smile quirked his lips. It was where Eliza had slept throughout her heat, too, in case Gilbert needed to go get them sustenance and had to leave her. Omegas were always extremely helpless during their heats, and if they had an Alpha their first and main goal was to surround themselves and smother themselves with that Alpha's scent. It made them feel safer, especially if their Alpha was not there for the heat.

He'd been reluctant to let Eliza go long enough to allow her to make the nest. Somehow, he'd managed it, and she'd impressed him.

Gil shook his head, knowing that he was just evading the main issue at hand with his complete focus on Eliza.

He was no longer considered a member of the Beilschmidt family. What was he going to do? Pain was a solid ache in his heart, tugging and pulling and nagging and clogging his throat, swallowing his heart and chewing it in its dull teeth.

He could remember his father's eyes as they fought, how confused and frustrated the other Alpha had been. And with a childhood such as his, could Gilbert blame him? He knew what Eliza had said, but at the same time she didn't understand his family. She didn't grow up with his father. She didn't know how his family worked,their quirks and qualities and problems and shared memories. She couldn't really be looked to for help on a matter that she didn't know a lot about.

His mother appeared in his mind's eye at that point, her soft, pale face gentle with a tender smile. Her blue eyes were filled with complete adoration as she watched Gilbert do a pretty impressive sequence with his wooden sword. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun, a few stray strands falling to frame her heart-shaped face. She was proud of her Alpha son.

Gilbert could remember Ludwig too, when they were little how the little tyke would always get insanely upset when Gil got to do something that he physically was not capable of. Such as climbing a tree, or throwing a baseball, or kicking a football. Eventually Ludwig had gotten over that whiney phase, and he pushed himself to meet his brother blow-for-blow, even if he couldn't quite achieve fighting to his brother's prowess. He was one of the few lucky ones to have been able to give Gilbert a black eye, and that was only because his Prussian sibling was too busy laughing at Feliciano to see Ludwig's fist flying at him.

Gilbert's fist raised to his eyes and he scrubbed furiously at them. He had to talk to his parents, regardless of whether or not Alfher wanted it. He couldn't leave things the way he had. Yes, his father had stepped out of line with how he had spoken of Gilbert's mate. But that didn't meant that he wanted to leave his family behind either.

When Eliza came out of the shower, a wave of steam washing out fo the door after her, Gilbert told the Omega of his plan.

"I'm going to go talk to my father today," he said, watching her with his red eyes, a sort of relief in them. It was nice to finally get such a tough decision figured out.

Eliza's face flicked between emotions like fingers through a photo album. Confused, displeased, confused, forced happiness, resignation.

"Are you sure that is so wise, Gilbert?" she asked him carefully, aware that she now only had a towel covering her body, with one wrapped around her hair. She wanted to change into something nicer for that day, considering they had to hand out Halloween candy to the trick-or-treaters of the street.

"Why wouldn't it be?" asked Gilbert carefully, discomforted with how Eliza was taking his news. What was so wrong about talking to his family? Was he forbidden to? The worst that would happen was that his father would refuse to see him, which would just leave him where he was now.

"Well, I mean, your family isn't the most accommodating for my beliefs, and I don't think that your father will want to see you. I don't want you to get hurt," her voice was pleading, though there was a note of accusation and almost dismissal when she mentioned the Beilschmidt's.

Gilbert caught onto this, observant as he was, and his eyes narrowed. "What would you know about my family to form such assumptions?" he murmured dangerously, standing from where he'd been sitting on the bed. They were his family to insult, and although they were technically Eliza's now too, she didn't care for them a quarter as much as he did. He refused to hear her badmouthing them.

"What I mean to say is that," she began to backtrack, "your family lives in a different age. What your brother and father did was not right, Gilbert, not at all. Things are changing, and what if your family tries to drag you down with them?"

A rather harsh growl came from Gil and the Omega reflexively took a step away from the volatile Alpha in front of her.

"Drag me down with them?" said Gilbert, his voice a throaty mix of disappointment and a sad form of acceptance. "Eliza, what do you know of my family? You don't know my father, or my mother, or Ludwig. You don't even know Feliciano that well. I love Alfher, and Amelina, and West. My father was the one who made me who I am today, my mother was the one who patched me up when things went awry. Yes, my family is traditional, but that does not mean they deserve any less respect than you do."

"You growled at me," said Eliza, suddenly defensive and accusatory. She wasn't pleased with where Gilbert was going with this, as he didn't seem all too intent on continuing to hold his stance of defense for her. "Was that something your father taught you too? To put down Omegas by growling at them?" she forced herself to take a not-so threatening step forward, one hand moving up to hold her towel in place, lest it fall in the tensed silence.

Gilbert's eyes flashed a dangerous cochineal before he was pressing Eliza up against a wall, one hand moving to cage her hands in a firm grip above her and the other working on loosening the towel that she had tied so carefully across her chest. His body was pressed firmly against hers to avoid any attempt at escape. "No, Eliza, in fact that is not something  _mein Vater_  taught me," he said, "that is instinct. And you know what I'm beginning to notice about you, Miss Omega's Rights?" he hissed. "You have no respect for Alphas. And you simply cannot acknowledge instincts." As if to prove his point, he growled once more, watching as she flinched slightly back, though her eyes were a confusing mix of lust and fear.

"Alphas demand respect. That's a natural fact of life. Omegas want respect, Betas want respect, but Alphas demand it. You know what else Alphas are? Possessive, headstrong, conceited, arrogant, a little rude. And we are at the top of the food chain. Why is it that Alphas can mark Omegas but not vice versa? Because Alphas are stronger, and can do more to protect an Omega marked by them than Omegas can protect Alphas." He bent his head to carve his teeth along her mark, a feral need to remind her who she belonged to influencing his actions.

To his delight, Eliza bowed her head submissively and arched her neck slightly towards him. He knew that he had sufficiently cowed her, but he wanted to make sure that she remembered what he'd told her, at least about his family.

"So do me a favor,  _Engel_. Do not talk about my family like that ever again, because they are yours too." He let her go and disappeared quickly into the restroom, leaving Eliza room to think things through now.

The squeak of the shower and the subsequent drumming of droplets on porcelain wound throughout the charged room.

Eliza didn't know what to say to Gilbert's words. Perhaps surprised that he'd so securely stood up for himself, perhaps surprised by how blatantly  _commanding_  he had been.

And she felt ashamed, because he was right. She had gotten so wrapped up in her work on getting him to accept that she was an Omega and deserved her own rights that she'd taken advantage of him at his most vulnerable. She sunk into the place that Gilbert had just vacated in her nest, turning so that her face was pressed into his clothing, where she had so expertly woven it into the grander scheme of it all. It still smelled fabulously of him, and she allowed that scent to calm her and help her collect her thoughts.

Gilbert was right, and she was going to have to muster enough of her pride to sacrifice it and apologize. She had been rude in insulting his parents, and had been even worse in assuming that she knew what was best for him when it came to them. It was Gilbert's decision on whether he wanted to speak to them, and the reasons she was advising him not to were completely selfish. If he chose to speak with Alfher, she would support him. Though she did intend to have a word with Ludwig, because what the boy had done was not right, and she had to make sure that he understood his error, lest he fall into a similar situation. She knew that it would kill Gilbert to see his brother in the hospital again.

So she waited patiently for her mate to finish with his shower, and when he exited the tiled room with a towel wrapped about his waist, hanging low on his hips, and another one being worked by his fingers through his hair, Eliza had a bit of a hard time remembering what exactly she had planned on talking about with him.

Because damn, she would never get over just how fucking attractive the boy was without a shirt on.

Gilbert saw where her gaze was falling and he had to force himself to keep from smirking. She was so easy to tempt. Turning his back to her, he felt her eyes beginning to sear a trail down the muscles that moved as he returned to the restroom to drop off the towel he'd been using to dry his hair and fetch the clothes he'd left there. He changed quickly into the pale red crew-neck t-shirt and khaki shorts and then returned to Eliza's room, waiting expectantly for her to speak her piece, because he knew that she had one. This was Eliza, and she was opinionated beyond belief. One of the many things that he loved about her.

Eliza finally managed to regroup herself, her still slightly heat-induced hormones calming down at the more-dressed state of her mate. "Right," she said, clearing her throat and casting her eyes awkwardly about her room. "I'm sorry for what I said, Gilbert. I was stepping out of line." Her eyes shifted back to his, meeting in a clash of green and red as she finished her sentence. "I love you, and I'm so selfish with you, and I don't want to make any sacrifices of my own, and I am sorry."

Gilbert grinned and moved towards her, wrapping his arms about her to express his forgiveness. She was still clad in only her towel, though the head one had been lost to the floor a little while earlier. She was surprised that there were still towels to be used for showering, and that they hadn't been wound into her nest.

"It's alright,  _Engel_." He said, dropping a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling away. "Now what say you to giving out some candy?" He grinned childishly, probably about as mature as the trick-or-treaters were when it came to Halloween.

Eliza laughed and shooed Gilbert out of the room so that she could change. The Alpha complained about not being allowed to see his mate change even though he'd seen her naked for the majority of the past week. Eliza just responded with the fact that if she let him watch her change, they were doubtless not going to be able to leave the bedroom for another couple of days.

Gilbert was reluctant to admit to this truth, and so he waited in the kitchen, picking at some of the candy that Eliza had arranged in a big plastic bowl with decorative white skulls dancing along its black circumference.

His mate made her appearance down the stairs in a pretty green strapless dress that started out tight in the bodice before flaring out at her knees in silky waves. A white band was wrapped about her waist and ended in a bow tied behind her. Her hair was dried, the ever familiar pink flowers near her ear and an adoring smile on her lips at the sight of Gilbert, who was standing guiltily with an unwrapped 'Fun-Size Three Musketeers' in one hand. One perfect eyebrow arched in disapproval before she swept the bowl from his arms and marched it to the front door where she placed it on a table just nearby it.

"Shame on your, Gilbert," she turned on him, wagging a disapproving finger.

Gil shrugged and reached his arms about her to run his fingers along the smooth leanness of her waist. "That's hardly the worst crime that could happen tonight," he told her, his face moving closer to hers.

"Mm? " she flirted, not backing away but rather letting her Alpha control the scenario. "And what would the worst one be?"

"Not kissing the most beautiful girl in the room, obviously," said Gil before doing just that.

As they kissed, his hands moved up to wind his fingers into her hair, holding her head in place so that he could deepen their kiss into something slower and overall more sensual. She responded with her own fingers dancing up to his shoulders and her body pulling itself against his.

They were interrupted by the harsh, cold ringing of the doorbell.

Gilbert pulled away from his beautiful mate and grinned impishly at her. "You're up!" he chirped before skipping off into the kitchen and leaving Eliza to the awkward job of having to make herself look presentable for the innocent children on the other side of the door. Stupid Alpha with his stupid corny attempts at seduction.

Halloween that year was wonderful, a mix of chocolatey kisses, playful slaps, and chasing a guilty Gilbert around with one of the creepy dead zombie hands that her mother had been kind enough to put out for decoration.

She never would have thought that Gilbert would have such an extreme fear of the living dead, and she was rather cruel with how she used this to her advantage.

And then as the hours drew later, and the clock struck twelve, Gilbert stopped their joking. Trick-or-treaters had stopped coming a good hour before. He took Eliza's hands in his and carefully folded their fingers together. Gentle music chimed through the house, assumingly put on by Gil as he gazed lovingly down at his blushing Omega.

They began to dance, though it was nothing fancy or impressive. Eliza gravitated closer to her mate, her Alpha, leaning her head on his right shoulder and closing her eyes in a sigh of content. She could lean on him and trust him to hold her, just as she hoped he knew that she would never let him fall either.

They were just swaying by the end of the song, and Eliza soon found that she was almost asleep on her feet. Gilbert scooped her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she instinctively curled into her Alpha, and took her upstairs.

He deposited her gently on the bed before carefully extracting a blanket from the nest and covering her and himself with it. They weren't going ot need a lot in the way of warmth, Eliza's room always got too hot.

Eliza slid out of her dress while in the bed, removed her flowers, and curled next to Gilbert's Teutonic Knights costume as the boy removed his own clothing and crawled in next to his mate in just his boxer shorts.

They fell asleep that night with Eliza nearly on top of her Alpha, her right arm flung over his chest and her left tucked beneath her. Her left cheek was pressed into one pectoral and a good part of her torso was covering Gilbert's. She was soothed into dreams by the rhythmic tugging of Gilbert's fingers through her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. If you see any character flaws, or logic problems, please let me know and I will go back in and edit it.
> 
> Another Rant Time Yay
> 
> Since my other rant was such a big hit, we're going to start putting rants at the bottom of these chapters. They will not all be Hetalia based, but hopefully they're all relatable.
> 
> Today's rant topic: Rude Seniors [High School]
> 
> Okay! So you know what? I'm so done with some of the rude seniors at my school! Like, look, you've been through the same shit we're going through now. No need to treat us like we're a cockroach that was fortunate enough to crawl near your shoe. No need to roll your eyes all haughtily, or to glare at the freshmen who are brave, and perhaps naïve, enough to wander into your little section of the hallway. Because Jesus Fucking Christ, we're all in the same fucking school. Sure, if a freshman doesn't show you the respect you deserve, than hate them. But there is absolutely no need to start beating up on little freshmen who have not even looked at you! That is taking it too far and it is clearly that you have an issue with dominance. Get your shit together and figure out that we are not even a fucking threat to you. We are lowly fish and you should really just ignore us, not make it your mission to laugh at any stupid mistakes we make.
> 
> Not a very long one, but if you can relate, do respond. xD
> 
> Have a lovely day!


	15. A Botched Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Yay.
> 
> Thank you for your reviews, guys. To be honest, I'm always terrified that they're going to tell me these chapters suck, and that they're horrible, and that I'm a horrible person. So I get really anxious when I see a notification letting me know that someone reviewed my story. But I'm always pleasantly surprised with all of y'all's glowing praise and helpful criticism. So thank you for making me smile.
> 
> And for the events that will happen in next chapter, do look at the bottom of Chapter Two. A clue is hidden in the society explanations there.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Hetalia franchise.

_"We are all mistaken sometimes; sometimes we do wrong things, things that have bad consequences. But it does not mean we are evil, or that we cannot be trusted ever afterward."_

**―Alison Croggon**

The next day dawned bright, the sun peeling like oranges over Eliza's back and along the contours of her face. Gilbert was watching her through half-lidded eyes, one hand stroking lazily up and down her back, sliding beneath her brastrap and then away. Her form was a comfortable weight on his chest, her hair curling out over the rest of Gilbert's bare chest that she wasn't lying on. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she began to move her arms and legs as she awakened.

Her parents were due to return that day, though Gilbert doubted that they much cared if he and Eliza were up and ready to greet them or not.

So he lay in contentment, waiting for Eliza's sleepy voice to break the smooth silence of the morning hours.

"Jó reggelt," she murmured, throat not quite functioning properly. Gilbert tilted her chin up and kissed her.

"Gutenmorgen," he rasped out, his voice a confusing blend of gloss and sandpaper.

They were slow to get their day started, and even while they were getting ready, Gilbert saw Eliza's hand subconsciously drift to rest on her belly.

He supposed it was only natural for Eliza to wish that she was pregnant. That was an Omega's first desire, after all. It was an instinct that was ingrained in their heads since the dawn of time.

But he secretly hoped that she wasn't. He didn't want kids, neither of them were ready. He wanted to graduate high school, and though he was still having difficulty with the idea of "Omega's Rights" he found that he too wanted her to graduate.

Because Eliza was meant for more than just raising children. She had ideas and goals and dreams and drive. There was so much she could put her clever little mind to than just raising her and Gilbert's children—not that he didn't want her to do that either.

Nothing was said on the subject, however, as he knew that Eliza probably wasn't even aware of what she was doing. They ate the traditional breakfast of Eggo waffles, and Gilbert stared vaguely at his hands. He and Eliza had decided not to go to school that day, as it was a Friday anyway and Gilbert still had to talk to his father. He had completely forgotten to yesterday, and was now very set on completing his mission.

Eliza sat at the table, her fingers turning through the pages of a book that she seemed to be fascinated with.

Gilbert peered at the title, having to tilt his head to get a proper look at it. The cover was a rather racy picture of a bare-chested male Alpha. One could only see half of his face, blond hair spiraling down to his jaw, and the Manhattan skyline trailed along the bottom of the book, blocking out the boy's legs and pelvis.

The title was  _The City of Bones_  and Gilbert was already not fond of how it looked. "Elizaveta, what on Earth could you possibly be reading?" he questioned, noticing the glaze that was in her eyes as she looked over at him. She must have been really immersed.

"I'm reading the City of Bones, what does it look like?" she asked. She could smell the unnecessary and petty jealousy emanating from Gilbert. Sighing, she shut the book and slid it across the table towards him. "Here, read the back cover."

Dubiously, Gil picked the volume up and peered at the back, his red eyes ducking over each word.

He raised one eyebrow. "An Alpha couple?" he asked her, eyes flicking to clash with her green ones. "What a preposterous notion." He put the book down and pushed it back over to Elizaveta, seeing the flush of irritation beginning to spread up her neck and around her ears.

"It is not preposterous. In fact, it's getting more common, so don't be all high-and-mighty," she grumbled before resuming her reading.

A half-an-hour passed before there was the sound of the front door opening and shutting, and then the gentle murmur of Hungarian tongue.

Eliza's parents were home.

Suddenly ten times more nervous than he had been previously, Gil began to drum his fingers anxiously on the wooden table, not noticing the amused smile that Eliza threw his direction.

Etel was the first in the room, Aranka following her. Both were wearing large smiles, though Aranka paused upon entering and scented the air, her brow crinkling a moment before she relaxed. Gilbert didn't question it, though he did see Elizaveta shifting next to him in response to her mother's strange action.

Awkward greetings were given among the four, before Etel disappeared. Sensing that Aranka wanted to talk to her daughter alone, Gilbert elected to return to Eliza's room. He had to think about what to say to his father anyway.

Once Gil had vacated the room, Aranka took his recently emptied chair. Eliza peered at her mother, every nerve in her itching to run up after Gilbert and wrap her Alpha around herself. But that wasn't practical, and so she chose to remain seated.

It was an awkward silence, neither of them wanting to break it with the first chance at voicing uncomfortable sentences.

"Eliza… You do know that you aren't pregnant, right?" said Aranka, being the bigger person in the scenario.

Liz sighed and nodded her head, shifting in her seat once more. Her body was crying out for Gilbert, it was rather pathetic. She was laying it down to her waning heat. "I know,  _Anya_ , but I don't know how he'll take it." She ran a nervous hand through her unbrushed hair.

Aranka's eyes softened. "Oh, Eliza, if he loves you than he will not care."

Elizaveta shook her head vehemently. "He came from a traditional family, how am I supposed to know what he would think? What if he was expecting me to get pregnant?" Her tone was rapidly growing more strained, and Aranka reached out to hug her beautiful Omega daughter close.

"Go talk to him about it," she advised before pressing a kiss to the crown of her daughter's head.

They spent a few more minutes talking about things that were of little importance, no doubt her mother's attempt at trying to get Elizaveta to calm down, when she heard Etel calling for her from the other room. Sending a reassuring smile to her daughter, she stood and went to see what it was her mate could possibly want.

Liz fled up the stairs, pathetic in her desperation to be near her mate.

Her mother had known that she wasn't pregnant because Omegas can sense that sort of thing. If another Omega near them is pregnant, they will be able to smell it altering the Omega's scent before an Alpha would be able to. Call it an Omega superpower.

The flaw was that Omegas would frequently grow insecure around pregnant Omegas, or upon being told that they weren't. When they got into this mentality, they would cling to their mates with an intenseness that Alphas sometimes found to be off-putting.

Gilbert could smell the distress marring his mate's scent seconds before she entered the room. Peering over his shoulder at her from where he'd been staring out of her window, he saw the torment in her eyes and immediately turned his body towards her, instincts snapping at him to figure out what was hurting his mate and fix the problem.

Eliza walked towards Gil and wrapped his arms around her, resting her forehead on his chest and drinking in his scent. Her hands fisted in his shirt, her mind rapidly smoothing at the comfort provided her by the man she loved.

"Gilbert, there's something I need to tell you," she said, taking a moment to breathe.

He rubbed her back in an absently smoothing gesture, though she could sense his anxiety. He no doubt thought that she was going to tell him she wanted to leave him, or something along those lines instead of her actual truth. Like she would ever tell him she'd kissed Roderich before Gilbert got serious about her.

"I'm not pregnant."

She felt his arms tighten around her a moment, before he let out a sigh of what felt to be relief.

"That's great, Liz.  _Danke Gott_  because I don't think we would have been ready for a kid."

Gilbert could feel her confusion in the tenseness to her shoulders and back.

"I want to graduate high school before we have children. And…" He hesitated at this, not sure if admitting it aloud was the best idea. "And I want you to graduate as well." He tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his fingers dipping down to circle the mark on her neck.

The odd part about those marks was that they frequently adopted the color of their creator's hair. So his mark was rapidly turning white. Antonio's mark was as dark as his brown hair, standing out on Lovino's tan neck.

"You have dreams, Liz, and I don't want to be the one to hold you back from those. We'll have kids when you're ready—when we're both ready—and I don't think that we are." He knew that he was making a big leap here. He'd gone far from where he'd been a few weeks ago. It was rather startling, but he found that his affection for Elizaveta was influencing these changes. He wanted the best for her, and he could see that holing her up in his home was not the way to go.

That wasn't to say that he didn't still want three to four children, but that was a battle to be undertaken another day.

Eliza was flushed with a pleased smile, and she rewarded him for his efforts with a kiss. "I love you."

It was a couple more hours before either of them managed to gather the gumption to suggest that they go visit Gil's family. Gilbert was working on Statistics homework and Eliza was grumbling over a piece of embroidery that she was supposed to have finished by Monday. It was a pain in the ass to complete, however, and was giving her more pricked fingers than was entirely necessary.

Finally, at the behest of Elizaveta-who had grown so sick of her homework that she wanted Gilbert to go and get his self-assigned homework over with-they slid into the truck and took the longest way to get to the Beilschmidt residence. Eliza could see that Gil was doing that on purpose. Her mate was unnecessarily nervous, but she let him find his own ways to calm himself down.

They both stood uncomfortably in front of the jet black Beilschmidt door, the address of the place spiraling out in curled silver lettering on the bottom edge. A peephole was in the middle, the mailbox situated next to it on the same wall the door was in.

The sound of footsteps rumbled from the other side and after a moment of silence, and no doubt deliberation on the other end, the knob was turned and the slab of wood pulled open.

Ludwig stood across from them, bare-chested and with bandages wrapping a fascinating design of crossing lines across his chest. His black eye had nearly completely healed, and other than the obvious, he seemed pretty well off.

Gilbert wanted to weep from relief.

Feliciano peered over his mate's soldier, his eyes alighting on Gil and Eliza with innocent joy. "Gilbert, Eliza!" he chirped happily, trying to make his way around his unmoving mate, but Ludwig held him back, a warning sound emitting from his throat.

Feliciano bowed his head and shuffled away, sending a morose look Eliza's way before scuttling up the stairs.

"Ludwig," said Gil, stepping forward hesitantly from where he had stood. This move did one of many things. It put his foot in the doorway, should his younger sibling try to slam the door shut, it got him closer to his brother, and it shifted his body in front of his mate's.

Ludwig's eyes narrowed, having noted these things as well. Sighing, he opened the door further and gestured for the two to come into the house. Clearly the younger Beilschmidt and his Italian mate had yet to find a house suiting them.

Gilbert's father was presumably in the office, and his mother possibly upstairs, or possibly in the kitchen.

Ludwig spoke first. "Gilbert, why have you come back?"

"Because things didn't end on the right foot."

"You tried to kill him!"

"He tried to make me leave Eliza!"

"That doesn't matter. She's an Omega, you can find another."

Red eyes narrowed warningly. "Watch yourself, Ludwig. If I said the same of Feliciano? He's just as replaceable, if not more so. Anyone can find a flighty, silly Omega on the streets." He knew he was being unnecessarily cruel, but Lud had hit a nerve.

Silence let him know that his point had been made, and so he guided Eliza to the sofa and took a seat after settling her down. One hand fell around her waist and he peered up at Ludwig from where he'd situated himself. Only two seconds in the door and he was already arguing with someone. Not a good omen.

"Do take a seat, there's no need to be so nervous,  _Bruder_."

Ludwig sighed and did as told. He still showed deference to Gilbert, as his brother was the eldest Alpha in the room at the moment, a fact that was soon to change as their father strode in.

The man stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his exiled son sitting in his living room. His expressions were quick and minute, ranging from happiness, relief, frustration, anger, irritation, and then back again.

"What are you doing here, Gilbert?"

"To explain something."

"What do you have to explain?" Alfher's nose wrinkled as he peered at Eliza through slitted blue eyes. "I can see that you've claimed her. We have no want for Hungarian Omegas in our bloodline."

"And yet you will accept  _Italian_?" asked Gilbert, incredulous and affronted. "For God's sake, Hungary was of much more aid to Germany in World War's One and Two than Italy, if that is your problem."

Alfher scoffed. "That is a stupid point that you made. My problem is that she is so clearly not of a disposition accepted in this family. Your Omega barely considers herself an Omega at all."

Eliza wanted to speak up at this point, but had vowed to keep her mouth shut. It wasn't her place. Gilbert could handle this. She was just there for emotional support and to calm her mate down if things got too intense.

"Well, that is  _Scheiße_. Look at your own mother for proof of that." Snapped Gil, his eyes widening in horror seconds later as he realized his mistake.

His father was white with rage at the end of this statement, and if it were not for Eliza sitting next to Gilbert, he doubtless would have lunged forward to strangle his son. But he wasn't going to put her in danger, as injuring an Omega could result in jail time.

Alfher's eyes locked on Eliza at that moment, a delightfully appalling idea occurring to him. "Oh, do be careful what you say. You forget that I saw what Eliza was doing with those daggers. You forget that it was she who knocked me to the ground." He saw dread creeping into his son's red eyes, and a terrible smile of his own was coming into play. "I know that it wasn't her father who did that. Her father knows better than to involve herself in those sorts of fights. But her daughter, now that is another matter altogether. You do know what this means, Gilbert?"

It was horrendous what this man was suggesting, but Gil had no other choice but to listen.

"This means that I can get her family, and your lovely mate, locked up. Who knows, I may even throw you in with them for being a blood traitor."

"Why would you do that?" murmured Gil, his volume a fraction of what it had been before.

"I want my son back, Gil. I want the boy I raised to return to me, I don't want this changed creature. I want the lad who happily wielded his wooden sword, and who was more than eager to tell me why Omegas aren't fit for jobs. I want my son back."

Alfher sounded so broken in those few sentences. But that wasn't going to excuse what he was threatening. "And you can have me back,  _Vader_ , you can have me back. I still love fighting. Why would you do this to Eliza? Why can't you accept that I love her?"

"You deserve better."

Gilbert got to his feet then. " _Nein_." He said sadly, his eyes crawling over to the kitchen. "Did you ever love  _Mutter_?"

Silence fell after the question, broken only by the shifting of Ludwig in the black leather chair he'd seated himself in.

" _Nein_." Was the final response, resulting in a sharp intake of breath from West. Gilbert had forgotten how innocent his brother was.

"Than you don't understand." Knowing that he shouldn't turn his back on his father, especially as the man had so much ammo to use against his son, Gilbert did it anyway. He and Etel could confer about what to do when he returned to Eliza's house. In the meantime, he needed out of his old home.

"I'll go get my stuff. Don't worry, you won't see me again after this."

Gliding two stairs at a time up to his room, with Eliza firmly in tow, he took a moment or two upon reaching his destination to hug her tightly.

She pressed her face into his neck, nuzzling into it in as comforting a manner she could muster before he eventually pulled away and set about to packing.

Sensing that a bit of alone time might be desired, Eliza told Gilbert that she was going to go find Feliciano before slipping away in search of Ludwig's room where, doubtless, the Italian Omega was staying.

She wasn't disappointed, as he lay there in the beginning of a nest, working a blanket into one of the sides. Smelling the room, Liz realized that the Omega was in preheat.

Clearing her throat, and announcing her arrival with a rap of her fists against the door frame, she smiled warmly at the startled Omega. Feliciano returned it with a beaming replica.

" _Szia,_  Feli," she said, walking into the room and taking a seat in Ludwig's desk chair. She hoped to talk to the German boy himself, but figured that she could settle for Feliciano's company in the meantime.

" _Ciao_!" was his enthusiastic response.

Running her finger along the smooth wood of Ludwig's desk, Eliza tentatively broached the subject she'd hoped to talk to Ludwig about.

"Wasn't your mate being stupid when he called Lukas a slut?"

She knew that Feliciano was aware of what night she was referring to, and she saw the boy's eyes flit nervously about the room. It would be against what he'd been taught to speak against the actions of his mate. Eliza shouldn't be forcing him to step out of his comfort zone.

Clearing his throat, Feli gave an automated response. "I stand by my mate in all of his endeavours."

Eliza made an exasperated noise before she was interrupted by the very annoyed and very Alpha scent that was Gilbert Beilschmidt.

"Eliza, we are leaving," he snapped, noticing the way the girl shrunk a little in her chair before standing and leaving the room as elegantly as she could. She said goodbye to Feliciano, was barely allowed to get two words in towards Ludwig, before she was shoved out the door and guided rather forcefully to the car.

"What were you trying to get Feliciano to say back there, Liz?" snapped Gilbert angrily, pressing her up against the side of his vehicle and glaring in a threatening manner.

Liz cleared her throat and did her best to meet the Alpha's eyes, though it was proving increasingly difficult. Eventually her eyes slid from his to glare at a spot of bushes just over his right shoulder.

"I just wanted him to say that what his mate had done wasn't right…" she mumbled, not really seeing what was wrong with that. Gilbert's weight disappeared after a moment and her mate sighed.

"When will you realize that the changes you want to enact aren't going to happen at the blink of an eye?" grumbled Gil before throwing his bag into the back of his truck and hopping into the driver's seat. He waited for Eliza to slide into the passengers before starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway of the only home he'd ever known.

They continued their argument all the way back to the Hédérvary home, until he was eventually able to convince Eliza that forcing Feliciano to speak badly about his mate was a horrible thing to do.

"I suppose I can't trust you to not do that to me when I'm not around, huh?" accused Gilbert as he took a right turn, his eyes sliding along the road in front with a calculated cautiousness. He was only just now allowed to drive with a passenger in the car.

Eliza was loud in her protests.

"Well that's just what you tried to make Feliciano do! How can I be sure you won't try to talk about me to get other Omegas to open up about their Alpha mates!"

"Because you don't argue with me about Omega's Rights anymore!"

"Oh, so you talked about me before?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did, because I hated you back then. You were so rude, and cocky, and arrogant."

"And acting like a fucking Alpha should. I swear to  _Gott_ , Eliza, I am this close to doing something I'm going to regret," as if to prove just how close he was, he held up his pointer finger and thumb and narrowed them together so that there was only a sliver of space between the two finger pads.

Liz huffed and opted not to further test him. She hated to see his logic.

When Gilbert told Etel of the new problem, the Hungarian alpha swore in her native language. "Gilbert," she said after her little bout, "this is not good. Not good at all." Her fingers were drumming out a nervous rhythm on the desk, her eyes distant. She was trying to figure out a way around the threat, but there was nothing. "If he tells of her using daggers, we are doomed. We will need to leave the country if we hope to stay away from punishment.

They discussed the matter long into the night, Gilbert's rough, gravelly voice twining with Etel's significantly smoother one. There was simply no solution, and eventually Gilbert slugged himself up to the bed with Eliza, letting the presence of his mate ease him into sleep.

School rolled around Monday morning with an unwilling Gilbert refusing to leave the bed. Eliza somehow managed to get him out of it, into a shower, and in fresh clothes within the span of an hour, which was going to make them both late for school.

They'd slaved over their separate homework the night before, working and toiling over theorems, for Gilbert, and menial things such as which spices go with each other for Eliza.

Honestly, it wasn't like there was a point to her graduating high school. She wasn't learning anything of import in her classes.

When they arrived on the campus, Eliza shrinked into her mate's arms as the smell of a pregnant Omega hit her like a runaway rhinoceros.

It was Lovino, and Antonio was rather lovingly and possessively leading his mate over to the Prussian and Hungarian duo.

"Gilbert!" yelled the Spaniard from several yards away. "Will you be this child's  _padrino_!"

" _Ja_!" returned Gilbert, and the two eventually moved away.

Knowing enough about Omegas to be knowledgeable of the jealousy such an incident was going to cause, Gilbert led Eliza into a more private part of the school and soothed her frayed nerves with gentle words and kisses.

They were both calmed down enough by first period to move on relatively unruffled with their day.

Until, that is, Gilbert saw Eliza talking to Roderich in the hallway. It wasn't just a normal conversation either. Oh no. The Austrian Beta was posturing in front of the Omega female, doing things that he no doubt researched to impress her. Things that would come naturally to an Alpha, but not so naturally to a Beta. Apparently Roderich hadn't seen Gilbert's mark on Eliza's neck, and the Prussian Alpha was more than eager to remedy the situation. Because Elizaveta wasn't being the most polite by not telling the young man in front of her about her lack of single status anymore.

Gilbert wove his way through the crowd, all his senses trained on the two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone saw problems with this, please let me know. Once more, I have written it late at night and am too tired to read through it. I'll probably go back over and make major edits tomorrow morning. So yeah.
> 
> Rant of the Week: High Expectations
> 
> Parents are lovely. I love my parents, I do. But when they expect all straight A's from me the first six weeks that I'm in high school, and I can't deliver on that promise, I don't want them to continue reminding me about it. I already am mad enough at myself, right? So who the hell wants to be continuously reminded that they failed at something? I didn't fail the class, I got an 89, but still. I hate it. Parents need to understand that they're children have to live their own lives, not be slaves to the parent's whims and desires. I understand that the parent wants the best for a child, but there is way worse out there than a B. And a really fucking high one at that. It scusk, you know, because you walk into the damn room, here your mother/father say something about your grades, and are forced to turn around and walk right back out lest you be forced to undergo minutes of lectures about studying and not slacking off and 'watching yourself not get accepted into college.' It's all just mentally draining.
> 
> Do you feel me?
> 
> Anywho, have a lovely day my followers/readers!


	16. Ein Wunderbares Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of this fan fiction (besides the epilogue). Thank you, all of you, for following this process with me. I love each and every one of you, and I hope that you all know how amazing you are. :) Thank you for your time, and I hope that you all enjoyed it.
> 
> No shootouts this time, sorry guys. I did read all of your reviews, and I'm so glad that each and every one of you responded to my rant or noticed my City of Bones reference or pointed out a timing issue or complimented my writing. I'm really touched that everyone cares enough to comment and review, because those mean worlds to me. So thank you.
> 
> Without further ado, I present to you 'A Wonderful Finale.'
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Hetalia franchise.

_"You're just another story I can't tell anymore."  
_

**―Unknown Author** _**, I Wrote This For You** _

Gilbert wasn't completely aware of what he was thinking. His eyes were focused on the one thing,  _the one thing_  that was trying to take Elizaveta away from him. It was an overreaction, but so much else had been lost in his life that he'd once thought he would get to keep forever, that the term 'overreaction' was a misplaced one.

A furious, animalistic snarl rang throughout the hallway, making the other poor Omega students freeze, and their Alpha counterparts look about for the source of the noise. Those who had mates protectively angled themselves in front of them. Antonio even went so far as to back Lovino against a locker and before standing before him, no doubt because Lovi was pregnant.

Eliza could recognize her Alpha's growl immediately, and she automatically shrank back into her locker, her instincts screaming at her to keep herself safe until her Alpha could find her. Her arms wound around her waist, body caving over, eyes beginning to flicker nervously about.

Roderich was confused. He had heard the growl, yes, but he wasn't entirely aware of why Elizaveta was reacting in such a way. Casting his dark eyes about the hallway, they landed quickly on the furious Prussian stalking towards him. He saw the fisted hands, the danger flashing in those hellfire eyes. Gilbert was only ever truly angry when he got quiet. It was a deadly thing, and Roderich was soon to become well aware of it.

Gilbert slammed against him with all the force of a tornado. There was simply no avoiding it. Gilbert's hands fisted in Roderich's crisp silver button-down, striking him back into the lockers across the hall from where Eliza was crouching. A low rumble was humming perpetually from his throat. He was completely out of his mind, his only instinct to let Roderich know that Elizaveta was  _his_.

"You stay away from her," he said, his voice even more gravelly and guttural than what it normally was. His entire body was tensed, and he was completely unaware of the stares that the spectacle was retrieving throughout the hallway. Those stares were mainly from Betas and perhaps younger Alphas. The elder ones, and Omegas, knew better than to watch an Alpha being dominant. Because the Omegas were used to being subordinate, and the Alphas had generally gone through the same ordeal at one point or another.

Gilbert's stance was wide, speaking of dominance. His hands were wrapped in Roderich's shirt, face straight and smooth though his eyes spoke volumes. Roderich found that he was unable to meet and hold Gilbert's gaze, so though it disgusted him, he determined to look over Gil's right shoulder, clearing his throat nervously and attempting to touch the floor with his feet, but finding that it was nowhere within comfortable reach. That was an unsteadying piece of information.

"Oi, listen to me, Arschloch, she's mine, understood? Not yours, mine. And she will stay that way, so find yourself another Omega to prey on," another warning growl was given before he felt Eliza's steady hands on his shoulders. Her scent wrapped around him, forcing him to calm down. Her nose was pressed between his shoulder blades, her smaller body molding itself to his back.

It did the trick. Gilbert let Roderich slide to the floor before grabbing Eliza's wrist and yanking her out of the building. He was intent on finding a secluded, quiet place.

By the time they found out, Eliza was thoroughly done with the possessive Alpha who was still aggressively holding on to her wrist. Yanking it from his hand, she rubbed the skin there and glared at Gilbert.

"Are you done? You claimed your territory, now calm down!" Her tone was exasperated and she crossed her arms huffily, green eyes glowering irritatedly at the Prussian.

But Gilbert wasn't done with his rampage. Paying no heed to her words, he backed her against the brick wall of the school's exterior, his hands caging her effectively. Within seconds, his head was dipped to where his mark was, teeth beginning to work at it in as pleasant a manner as was possible. Eliza thought nothing of the scenario, other than how silly Gilbert was for trying to use sex to get out of trouble, when she suddenly felt his teeth piercing her skin. Her eyes, which had previously slid shut with pleasure, flew open, the abruptness of horror sinking into her pupils.

"Gilbert!" she gasped out, struggling to shove him away from her, but he was an Alpha and she was an Omega, and there are certain physical attributes that Alphas have and Omegas tend to lack in. Upper body strength was one of those, and besides, Gilbert was on a mission.

His teeth kept boring into her neck until he stopped, pulling away from her and gazing with a hooded domination at the newly bleeding mark.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why, why would you do this?" screamed Eliza then, still angry but now desperate for answers. The palm of her right hand slapped over the mark, covering the bleeding bite from Gilbert's eyes. She was shaking with her rage, her own eyes demanding to hold Gilbert's gaze. Luckily for her, the Alpha was more than willing to oblige, and they got into a silent stare-off. For an Omega, Eliza was holding her own amazingly well.

"Because you are  _my_ Omega, and I won't have you flirting with anyone else but me," said Gil self-righteously, having not yet realized the wrong he had committed.

"Oh, and you are allowed to do that?" snapped Eliza in response, taking a threatening step forward. It was a tiny one, but the power and force she'd placed in it had Gilbert beginning to rethink his actions.

It wasn't entirely out of place for him to do it. His father had re-marked his mother almost immediately after the first one, or at least that was what he'd been told. It wasn't outlandish, just a normal thing that was bound to happen.

Apparently Eliza didn't share that philosophy, as she was still covering this newest of bites with her hand. She wouldn't be able to approach any Alpha or male Beta other than Gilbert now. Some unnatural field of repellence would inevitably drive them away from her. Eliza wasn't exactly sure as to the scientific back-story of it, but what mattered was that she would be unable to talk to anyone but Omegas, female Betas, Gilbert, and her parents. She would have to yell to carry a conversation with any people that might hold a romantic interest in her.

"Yes, I am," said Gilbert, though a good deal less sure than he had been previously.

"Do you know how frustrating it is to see you speaking with other Omegas?" snapped Elizaveta then, a note of tragedy hanging in her voice. She was on the verge of frustrated tears. "I can't do anything about that, though, can I!" she threw her hands into the air, abandoning her mark for the sake of making a statement. "I have to see Omegas and Betas and even  _Alphas_  eye you in the hallway, and I can't mark you or claim you because that's not 'right,'" quotation marks were used here. "Omegas get jealous too, you know."

Gilbert's eyes widened, this idea hitting him suddenly. "They do?"

Elizaveta's jaw dropped and she worked it for a moment, stunned into a silence. "Y-You didn't know that?"

"Nein. How was I supposed to know that? The awesome me was never taught anything of that. Omegas are not jealous." He shrugged, as if that was fact.

Elizaveta sighed, though she was now disgustingly amused. She hated to be amused with him when she should be pissed off. But did he really know any better?

Shaking her head, she crunched her neck to try and get a look at the second bite that had just been gifted her.

"You're taking me to the restroom, because I need to clean this off. I don't think my teachers are going to want me to bleed to death in their classes."

Gilbert scoffed. " _Bitte_ , that's unlikely to happen," but regardless, he took her back into the school, shielding her from curious Omega eyes and intrigued Alpha ones. They could smell something different with her scent now, an extra layer of Gilbert covering the earlier one. Most Alphas knew exactly what had happened, because although Eliza was unhappy about the second marking, it was common.

Gilbert was waiting for Eliza outside of the Omega restroom, peering out at the people scuttling past. His eyes locked on a certain Englishman in that moment, noting the extra swagger that Arthur seemed to be holding as he maneuvered expertly down the buzzing hallway.

Gilbert took a subtle scent of the air, but found nothing off about Arthur's scent. It was still that gross mixture of some nasty form of tea, soap, and leather.

Arthur's green eyes snagged on Gilbert at that moment, and the English Alpha changed his course, stopping just in front of his Prussian counterpart.

"Good afternoon, Gilbert," he said, eyes studying the other with a sharp awareness.

It made Gilbert uncomfortable. "Gutenabend, Arthur," he said, determined to not be cowed by the Englishman's keen eyes. "What has you in such a mood?"

"Aw, Alfred of course. Unlike some, my Omega knows his place." It was a barbed comment, and one that had Gilbert bristling.

"Well, I suppose that he would need to make up for that burly physique with some sort of Omega trait," was Gilbert's own loaded response, noticing how Arthur tensed.

"At least I do not have to worry about a Beta taking Alfred away from me."

"Of course not, because who would want him?"

"And who would want a self-righteous, know-it-all Omega such as yours?" sniffed Arthur finally, choosing to back away. He was not in the mood to continue the verbal battle. Gilbert said nothing in response, just watched in satisfaction as the Englishman took his leave.

"Esel," he grumbled under his breath, watching as the so-called 'jackass' disappeared in the crowd of people. It was almost time for third period.

Eliza finally appeared from the restroom, her eyes casting warily about until they landed on Gilbert, where they only intensified in their caution.

That stung, but Gil supposed it was well deserved. He ought to have asked Eliza's opinion on the second-marking thing before he'd gone and done it. But he was caught up in the heat of the moment, and there was no reverse for it now.

"Let's get you to third period," he said, pulling her towards him and forcing himself to ignore the way she shifted her mark away from him. He hoped he hadn't shattered all of her trust in him.

Gilbert managed to coax a kiss from her before she insisted that they had to get to class. Understanding that she was wanted a formal, well-done apology, Gilbert didn't dispute the suggestion.

Settling into his third period class, he rested his chin on his hand and struggled to ignore Francis and Antonio's knowing gazes.

Once more, he was unable to escape the classroom before his friends had kidnapped him and dragged him to the little brick room. His heels pulled on the tiled floor of the school, and he hung like a deadweight in their arms. Like hell he was going to help them in this endeavor, plus he was pretty sure he saw Elizaveta laugh at the impossible position he was in when they passed through the main school hallway, so that was a bonus.

He tumbled into the alcove and was followed closely by Francis and Antonio. To be honest, he was surprised that Antonio was there. Generally an Alpha was glued to their Omega's side if the Omega was pregnant. Antonio could read this in Gilbert's raised eyebrow, and he showed the Prussian Alpha a dark purple bruise that was blooming along his upper arm.

"Lovi is getting tired of me," he complained, receiving an oh-so-sympathetic slap to the back of the head from Francis, who was sitting next to him.

Gilbert snorted and pushed himself back so that his back was resting against one of the four walls in the tiny structure.

"So, mon ami, what has happened between you and the beautiful Elizaveta?" asked Francis, getting straight to the point. It appeared that no one was planning on going to fourth period.

"What does it matter to you?"

"You marked her for a second time, didn't you?" said Francis then, deadpan and surprising Gilbert with the point-blankness of the statement.

"What the hell was I supposed to do? She was flirting with Roderich, and I will not stand for that."

A dramatic sigh issued from Francis. "You crétin," he groaned, turning to Antonio for some help. But the Spanish Alpha was gazing blankly at the French one.

"What is wrong with what Gilbert did?"

Francis looked worriedly from Antonio's confused expression, to Gilbert's peeved one, and back again, dismay steadily scrolling a thread from his eyes to his mouth, pulling at the corners of his lips and embellishing horror in those blue peepers.

"You are telling me that neither of you see what is wrong with that?"

At the silence that greeted him, he was able to find his answer.

"Mon dieu, how uncultured all of you are. Of course an Omega would dislike this. It means that you don't trust them to be loyal to you. That is a great insult, as trust is the basis of any good relationship."

By the time Francis had finished his mini speech, Gilbert had decided that the French Alpha had missed out on a lot when his father had died. He was way too sympathetic towards Omegas.

"Well, fine, I don't trust Eliza then." Said Gil easily, sinking back against the wall and sighing. He was beginning to slide to the dirt floor, more and more of his lower back pressing against the packed earth. Eventually, he was laying down.

Antonio was looking uncomfortably back out of their little den. It was clear that the Spanish Alpha was dying to go and check on his pregnant Omega.

That was the thing with having a pregnant mate. Their Alphas were generally given free passes to leave class and check on them, and when it came closer to the child being due, they could just skip school altogether.

Francis noticed this action too, or so it seemed, as he patted Antonio's back comfortingly. "He'll be fine. You know Lovino, nothing could take that little spitfire down."

Antonio laughed, though the idea of something out there possibly having an intention to hurt Lovino put him even more on edge.

Gilbert decided that he would fix the problem, since Francis had failed so spectacularly at comforting the other Alpha. "We won't be here much longer, then you can go and make sure he's alright. Besides, if something was wrong, you would feel it. You have marked him a second time, right?"

Antonio nodded his head. "Then you two will be even more closely bonded than you before. You'll be able to sense his distress and pain." It as a shrugged sentence, said as more of an offhand thing than a direct effort to comfort the other. Seemingly reassured by this statement, Antonio sunk down in his seat a little, forcing himself to turn away from the exit of the chamber.

A comfortable silence washed over the trio. "We should get up to something mischievous," suggested Gilbert out of the blue, staring up at the brick ceiling of their hideout. It was laced with a couple of spider webs in its corners, and sand coated the brick, though from where Gilbert knew naught.

"What kind of mischief?" asked Francis.

"I don't know, put cups of water all over the floor, set off some sparklers in the hallways, glue the teacher's desk drawers shut. Something exciting."

There was only the shuffle of feet against dirt in reaction to this, Francis's fingers running over the stubble on his chin and Antonio humming a Spanish song under his breath.

Gilbert patted out a rhythm on the dirt floor with his palms, feeling his eyes beginning to drift shut. He was tired.

"I know!" snapped Antonio suddenly, startling the other two occupants of the space. "We should hang grande pictures of the teacher's heads in front of their doors, so that when they open it tomorrow morning, they'll find their own faces staring back at them!"

Gilbert snorted at this suggestion, still rather entertained with just gluing the teacher's drawers shut. "That's an interesting one, Tony, I'll tell you that much." He said finally, noticing Francis's not-entirely there expression. "Francis, what do you have going on in that French mind of yours?"

"I'm going to ask Matthew to be my mate."

Gilbert choked, and was forced to sit up.

"Are you sure that's wise? You haven't known each other that long."

"So what? There have been shorter relationships," was Francis's explanation. Antonio and Gilbert exchanged a concerned look. Gilbert wasn't entirely aware of the irony of his advice when it came to relationships. He and Eliza had known each other when they were younger, yes, but that didn't mean that they knew each other exceptionally well by the time they met again in high school.

Francis made this fact aware to Gilbert after the other tried again to discourage the French Alpha from doing something that could have terrible results.

Antonio was not helpful in that defense, and eventually Gilbert was forced to settle back and moodily glare at Francis from the floor.

"If he turns you away, don't come running to me, aright?" he warned. He didn't want Francis to get hurt, as the man was a sibling to him. And he was terrified that the French Alpha's feelings would be dashed on the rocks.

They spent the rest of fourth period talking about useless things, their feet padding soft sounds on the dirt floor, fingers tapping out odd rhythms here and there, bricks cracking against one another. They were being far from subtle.

"What did you and Mattie do for Halloween?" asked Gilbert finally.

"Oh, I wasn't allowed over. Apparently Matthew and Alfred have a sort of tradition on that holiday, and I was not allowed to participate in it."

Gilbert was surprised at this. He then turned to Antonio and repeated the question.

"Lovi and I spent it in his nest," responded Antonio dreamily, and it was clear that he intended to elaborate on that particular detail, but was quickly stopped by the combined shrieks of Gilbert and Francis.

Gilbert eventually told them what he and Eliza had gotten up to when Antonio asked, and once more they lulled into a silence. They were a trio that had been together for years, and so silence was not a big problem with them. They could handle it. They could also speak one another's native tongues, and understand with just a single look what another of their group was trying to convey. It was a wonderful system that had saved them all many a test grade.

As the class bell rang, they eventually got to their feet and split up to find their respective Omegas.

Francis found Matthew lurking around Alfred's locker, intent on asking the American Omega a question, but never getting the opportunity, as his French Alpha eagerly dragged him off to 'a tres magnifique bowling alley just down the street.'

Lovino, though he would never admit it, was immensely relieved at the sight of Antonio. It was hardly his fault that he felt so vulnerable in his pregnant state, but all the same. He had been quite uncomfortable throughout his separation from his Spanish Alpha, and so he fell eagerly into the other male's arms, baring his neck for the Alpha to press a kiss to his mark.

Elizaveta was proving herself difficult to find for Gilbert. He supposed that he deserved it, but at the same time, her noticeable absence was making him anxious. He could feel nothing across their shared bond, however, that told of a similar distress on her side, so that meant that her avoidance was very much intentional.

Eventually he did locate her in an empty classroom, flipping through the pages of the book she had been reading the other day. She peered up the minute he entered the room, her shoulders immediately relieved of tension as the familiar smell of her Alpha infiltrated the space.

Instincts were impossible to suppress, after all.

"Eliza," said Gilbert, pulling a chair out next to the desk that she was seated at. He waited patiently for her to mark her place and shut the book before continuing, "I'm sorry for how I acted. It was rude of me, even though I am awesome, and I should have been able to hold myself back."

Eliza sighed, though a gentle smile was now on her lips. She had forgiven him that much was immediately obvious as she gazed affectionately at his earnest expression. "Just don't do it again, Gil." Was her only warning before she was leaning forward, her head resting on his shoulder and nose nudging against his neck. He reacted immediately by pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her waist. Her legs settled on each side of his hips, her hands moving up to hang loosely behind his neck, forming a semicircle for her head.

He didn't question why she was being so needy, choosing to instead comfort her and remain steady. She would explain it in her own due time. That was the thing with Eliza, you could never force her to do something that she didn't want to do.

"I want a baby," she murmured against his neck, surprising him for a moment. Where on Earth had that come from?

"Eliza…" he started, but she interrupted him.

"I know what you're going to say, that I'm 'smarter than that,' and that I 'can do more than just raise kids,' but Gil, I want a baby." She pulled her face form his neck by that point, her eyes searching his for confirmation. "What good will I ever be? The classes I'm taking now are pointless, and stupid, and will get me nowhere in life. I can't change the world. I can't do it."

Wherever her insecurities had come from, they struck like a snake, and Gilbert was suddenly unsure of how to react. "I-er, Eliza, why are you suddenly like this? What happened to that Omega Rights Activist I knew only a couple of months ago?" he was confused and needed some form of explanation before he would be able to properly address her diffidence.

"I realized how pointless change is. You know what you did this afternoon, and that was purely off of instinct. How am I supposed to get an entire world to go against what their natures tell them to? I can't. Omegas are submissive. Alphas are dominant. That's just how it is, and I have to accept that."

A week or so ago, Gilbert would have been thrilled to hear this. Now, however, the game had changed. This wasn't Eliza, this was a watered down, nearly defeated version of her. He could read her melancholy through her scent, could feel the creeping depression.

She'd fallen into that pit that always held the risk of ensnaring an Omega in its grasp. Omegas were always more prone to depression just after a heat, and after they realized that they hadn't conceived.

"Eliza," he breathed a moment. This was going to be difficult for him, seeing as he still wasn't entirely signed on to this Omega's in the Government thing that she was so fond of. But he had to do his best, because this wasn't  _his_  Elizaveta. This was society's Eliza, and he couldn't say that he really liked her. "Just because an Alpha is possessive and an Omega is submissive doesn't mean that one has more right to rule than the other. Your nature doesn't affect your sense of right and wrong. There are Omegas out there who are more Alpha than I am, and I'm sure there are Alphas out there who are incredibly inclined to the Omega nature. There are… There are soft-spoken, introverted Alphas just as there are out-spoken, extroverted Omegas. One cannot sort a person into a box just because they are an Omega or an Alpha. Everyone should have a voice, that is not something that should be taken away."

He was surprised by his speech, by the honesty behind it. Thinking back on it, he was right. Everyone had a right to participate and try. And though these Nature stigmas would stick around for a generation, their kids would start to challenge it, and their kid's kids would and so on and so forth, until change rippled across the country and brought power to Omegas and minorities.

However far in the future that may be, he knew that it could happen.

Eliza's eyes were shining with a wonderful brew of pride and pleasure. "My dear, you are such a beautiful creature," she surprised him by saying that, but he didn't bother to think much else of it, as her soft lips were pressing against his, and she was more than willing to let him control their kiss. Her fingers circled behind his head and into his white hair, his arms tightening around her waist.

She was perfect, and she was his, and everything was wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, I have written this story late at night, so if you see any logic errors or major character flaws let me know. I'm half asleep right now.
> 
> Finally, I want to thank you all for accompanying me on this journey. To say I'm glad that I had company is an understatement.
> 
> Oh, and I intended for things to be left on an unsteady, unfinished note. If I'm going to have a sequel, or even a worthy enough epilogue, than I will solve those problems there. Just to clear that up.
> 
> I love each and every one of you.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> By the way, should I write a sequel of this? And I will for sure be writing an UKUS spinoff, but would a Spamano one or Dennor or Gerita one be appreciated?
> 
> The Final Rant
> 
> This is about reviews. It isn't a rant about you all so much as it is about my ridiculous insecurity when it comes to reading them. So, my phone will always buzz to let me know that someone has reviewed my work. And you know what I do? I don't touch that email, or even look at the story review count for a good few days following the alert. I'm absolutely terrified that you all will be disgusted with what I wrote, or will feel the need to bash it or just overall insult it. And writing, as those of you who do any form of artistic skill, is like putting your heart out there. You are open for others to read and peruse as they please. Whether or not they burn the book in a fire can hurt you immensely, especially when they make sure that you feel every single little flame. I know that none of you would ever do that, but I still have a gut wrenching, nearly throw-up worthy fear every time I see that someone has reviewed something I've written. So thank you for giving me pleasant surprised and reassurances every time. It means a lot to an insecure soul such as I.
> 
> The End.


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Epilogue. :) It is now time for my final goodbye.
> 
> Thank you, all of you, for bothering to read this fan fiction. It means so much to me that you enjoyed it and were willing to continue following our much-loved Gilbert and Elizaveta. Thank you for your reviews, for your constant positivity throughout this endeavor, and for your patience. I love you, and I really do mean that. You make my day so many times that it's impossible for me to explain it. I'm so conceited now because of you little buggers. ;) So thank you, and I hope that you enjoyed yourselves, because I certainly enjoyed myself.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Hetalia franchise, and I am making no money off of these works.

_"I know you're just a rag doll now, sewn together with memories that we might have had. I know you're just the dream inside of a dream And don't worry, I know I don't know you, anymore."  
_

_**―** _ **Unknown Author** **,** _**I _Wrote This For You_** _

Gilbert woke up the day of graduation to the familiar sound of Eliza throwing up.

She was in the bathroom, and judging by the cold temperature of her side of the bed, she had been in there awhile. As guilty as Gilbert felt, he was supremely pleased about Eliza's current state.

She was pregnant, finally, after months of heats. For a while, Gilbert had a slight concern that Eliza was infertile, and when he voiced this to his mate, she immediately launched into a defensive that quickly made him realize the error in his assumptions, namely that he could be the one who was infertile.

And now, even as she was pregnant, Gilbert couldn't help but to hope that their first child was an Alpha. It was the traditionalist in him, and he doubted that would ever go away.

He was sitting up by the time Eliza made her way back into the room, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and her hair loose and hanging about her face. She had washed out her mouth after the session, no doubt using mouthwash as well because Gilbert knew she hated the taste of bile in her mouth. Her bare feet danced lightly across the floor and she slid into bed, burying herself in Gilbert's waiting arms, not saying a word.

Gilbert knew better than to speak. Eliza was not a morning person these days, and he had learned after the first time he'd set her off that it would be best to let the early morning silences linger until she decided to break them.

Her weight was comfortable and warm in his arms, her skin soft and a little cold. Her soft hair just tickled the underside of his chin, her breathing gentle and quiet. A small, firm bump had developed at her stomach as the week progressed, and Gilbert's ego always sparked whenever he could brush his fingers along its firmness or press a kiss to its slightly rounded edge.

Elizaveta put up with this Alpha possessiveness quite well, and she was always content to let Gilbert pamper her. He was even more protective than he had been before, and he was way worse than Antonio had been when Lovino was pregnant. Eliza wasn't out of his sight for more than five minutes, and even during school, he would take as many breaks from class as possible to go and check on her, though she had gradually schooled him to relax in that practice.

As they waited in the blessed silence of the five-six AM hours, Gilbert chose to delve into the memory of when Eliza first told him that she was pregnant.

He had just gotten back from going out to a movie with Francis and Antonio. Antonio was more than eager to get out of the house, as he was the focus of the majority of Lovino's anger at the time, and so they all opted to go out and watch one of the newer films out on the market.

Incidentally, it was some silly thing about an Omega who fell in love with his phone, which had a feature that made it sound like an Alpha. Creepy, and Gilbert had regretted going to see the movie. When he walked into the Hédérvary household, he was immediately assuaged by the smell of a ecstatic Omega and something else. It was underlying the regular scent of Eliza. Curious, and with a sneaking suspicion of what that meant, Gilbert hopped quickly up the stairs and peeked into his and Eliza's bedroom. The smell grew stronger.

"Eliza?" he asked.

"Gilbert!" she laughed, jumping quickly to her feet and dancing over to him. Her twirls had him a little dizzy, and when she fell breathlessly into him, he wasn't completely ready to catch her.

"Mein Gott, what has you in such a good mood?" he had asked, that sneaking suspicion steadily blossoming into a thrilled hope.

"I'm pregnant," she had finally murmured, her green eyes literally sparkling with joy. It took barely two seconds for Gilbert to process this, as he had already been thinking along those lines. Grinning so wide his cheeks hurt, he swept her into his arms and spun her around, his face burying into her neck in a desperate attempt to keep himself from giggling and shrieking as loud and at a higher pitch than Eliza had not two seconds earlier.

But he failed, and they were both giggling messes within minutes. "That's awesome, Liz, that's so, so awesome," he said when they both finally regained the power of speech. He cupped her face in his hands, the skin on her cheeks smooth. As they both calmed down, sweet kisses were shared. Gilbert's right hand drifted to rest gently on Eliza's belly; he was unable to believe that their child was in there.

Hopefully it would be an Alpha.

Eliza moved in his arms, and Gilbert was snapped back from his reverie. She mumbled something, and a bemused smile graced Gilbert's generally devilish face. "What was that,  _Liebling_?" he asked her, combing his fingers gently through the hair that was stuck to the back of her shirt.

"I hate this," she grumbled finally, forcing herself to speak louder. Gilbert said nothing, just pressed a gentle, sympathetic kiss to the side of her head.

"What do you want to eat?"

"I don't  _want_ to eat anything," was Eliza's obstinate response. Gilbert had to bite back a sigh of exasperation.

"Well, you're going to have  _have to_  eat something, so what will it be?"

A moment of quiet deliberation followed this statement. "Bacon."

"Bacon? Do we even have bacon?" Gilbert realized his mistake, but it was too late. There was no coming back from that one.

"I don't know, do we?" snapped Eliza then, pulling away from Gilbert's hold. "You told met hat I could get whatever I wanted, and yet you are telling me that we don't have any of what I want?"

Gilbert winced. "I'll see what I can do," he reassured her, not really feeling that he had done anything too terribly wrong, but he supposed that if he'd had to spend a half an hour upchucking everything he'd eaten the night before, he would be pretty upset with everything too.

He slid from the bed and made his way downstairs, hearing Etel and Aranka discussing something in Hungarian in the kitchen. He was starting to understand more of the words, something that Eliza was supremely proud of, as she was working on her German as well. Walking over to the fridge and pulling it open, he scanned the shelves and nearly died of relief when he spotted the bacon sitting proudly on the top shelf. Gilbert quickly swiped it from its position and got the pain ready on the stove, gently rolling the bacon into it and listening to the satisfying sizzle of the meat.

Etel walked in at that point, smiling at Gilbert's broad back. He was a good Alpha for her daughter, and she was pleased with how he was shaping up, and with how he was changing Liz.

"Jó reggelt," she said, giving him a fond smile as he turned to look at her. She looked at him as her Alpha son now, and they had had a few good conversations since he had officially moved into their home.

She didn't want to see Gilbert and Elizaveta go, though she knew it was inevitable. Gilbert's pride would forbid him from allowing himself to stay any longer than was absolutely necessary in the Hédérvary home.

"Gutenmorgen," Gil said before refocusing his attention on the bacon.

"I see that Eliza shares the same food interests as Aranka did when she was pregnant," Gilbert sent a half smile over his shoulder at the other Alpha before returning his attention to the bacon. It was imperative that he gets it just right, or Eliza would be in a funk for the rest of the day. And this was kind of a big day, so it was important that he not screw anything up.

He was back up stairs, with plate in hand, in under fifteen minutes. It was crowded with about eight slices of bacon and a couple slices of banana. Etel had insisted that Eliza would like it, and she was proven right as Liz gobbled every single morsel of food down.

"Someone was hungry," noted Gilbert, and he got a sheepish, embarrassed smile in response.

"I'm sorry for snapping earlier," Eliza said, a big leap for her. She hated apologizing.

Gilbert shrugged. "I'm awesome, so it's okay," he said, brushing it off. It wasn't entirely Eliza's fault, her hormones were throwing her into a whirlwind.

They dressed quickly that day, each throwing on jeans and a t-shirt before making their way out the door (Gilbert refused to let Eliza jog down the stairs) and getting into the car (Liz had had to duke it out with Gilbert on more than one occasion for the rights to the passenger seat, as her mate was intent on her sitting in the back).

Pulling up to school with their graduation gowns folded nicely in the back seat, Gilbert smiled at the sight of his Godson nestled in Lovino's arms. Antonio was there as well, his arms looped around the Italian's waist and chin nestled in the boy's shoulder.

Lovino and Antonio had had a male Omega. Antonio took the birth well, not even showing a hint of disappointment, which surprised Gilbert. It was illegal to get an ultrasound for the gender in the United States, as in the past many babies had been aborted if they were found to be Omega. So, when the Omega gave birth was about the time the Nature of the child was discovered. It would always take a year or so, though, to really confirm whether or not the child was an Alpha or Omega or Beta. There had been many incidents where a baby was identified as an Omega but turned out to be an Alpha as they watched its actions and monitored its pheromone levels.

Gilbert got out of the car and tilted his head as a form of hello towards Antonio. He knew the Alpha probably didn't want to be bothered, considering that such silence and complacency was probably a rare thing for him.

Francis was standing with Matthew just inside the school building, muttering something about how the young Omega needed to look into hair care products as he combed his finger through the long blond strands. Matthew absorbed this advice with a bemused expression, but made no protest. Sometimes it was best to just let Francis ramble.

Alfred was watching the two with a reluctant, and accepting expression. Clearly he didn't want the relationship, but if it made his brother happy, than he would put up with it. Gilbert could relate, as he wasn't too great a fan of Feliciano.

Not that it mattered. His father had legally disowned him. He was, by all rights, no longer a Beilschmidt.

Gilbert quickly tossed those thoughts aside, though by the way that Elizaveta shifted closer to him, he knew that she could sense his slight depression. She knew him well, it was almost uncanny.

Arthur inclined his head ever so slightly towards the Prussian Alpha as Eliza and Gilbert passed. Gilbert had earned Arthur's respect, as he had beat him in the final semester exams for their sword fighting class. That was no easy feat, Arthur knew his way around weapons after all.

Mathias was leaning against a locker, the backs of his hands pressed to the ridged metal as an irritated Lukas paced in front of him and lectured the Danish Alpha about something concerning better hygiene.

Gilbert had to muffle a snicker at the serious expression that Lukas was wearing in light of his Alpha's not-so-serious one. It was awesome, the way those two balanced off of each other. Gilbert had talked to Mathias after the showdown with his family, and the Alpha held no hard feelings towards the Prussian, though the rest of the Beilschmidts he couldn't say the same for. Gil could respect that, and they parted on fair terms.

The middle school hall was bustling with proud, peacock-y fifth graders. The Alphas were more than happy to start getting their super awesome special classes, and the Omegas were content (most of them anyway) with just watching the Alpha children strut their stuff. Gilbert, however, could spot a few Omegas who were very much disenchanted with the entire idea, judging by how frequently they would roll their eyes when a particularly arrogant Alpha strode up to them.

They had shortened classes that day, as there was nothing else that the teachers could make their senior students learn. The boys and girls, nay, the men and women of the classrooms were going to graduate and start lives of their own. The teachers had done what they needed to, and they watched through a film of tears as the class of 2015 laughed and joked around for the final time.

After lunch, the seniors streamed out to the magnificent, well-manicured lawn at the back of the school. Alphas would be called up first, and then Omegas. That was the way of things.

Gilbert still had the Beilschmidt last name, as much as his father wanted to make him get rid of it, that was not his decision. Only Gilbert had control over his name, and he wanted to keep this last vestige of his once perfect family. So, Gil was one of the first to be called up. The teachers who were in charge of the physical part of his education beamed proudly at him, the academic teachers wore exhausted, but amused expressions. They had weathered a lot with Gil that year, as he wasn't exactly the best student out there, his go to excuse for no homework having been "I am awesome." But they made it.

Elizaveta was one of the first Omegas called up, as her last name did start with 'H.' Her Omega teachers gave her wary smiles. She had caused them a lot of headache over the year, what with her dogged pursuit in the interest of Omega's Rights. It was exhausting to put up with her sometimes, though they all did have a small part of themselves that was all for what the girl was preaching.

The ceremony was finished in just under a half an hour. They rushed it, as was common with high school graduations, and then everyone broke for an hour or two of splitting time with Alphas and Omegas and Betas, a chance that had been rarely afforded to them throughout their high school careers. The PTA provided food and drink.

The reality of what was happening hit Gilbert somewhere closer to the end of the day. He watched Antonio and Francis laughing and quibbling over something in a mixture of Spanish and French when he realized that their trio was about to be split up. He wasn't going to the same universities that Francis and Antonio were. He was heading to Europe, Francis and Antonio were staying here until their precious Omegas graduated, as both were at least one grade beneath their Alphas.

Antonio peered over at Gilbert, noting the wrecked look to his friend's red eyes. It took only a few more seconds for Francis to notice, and then all three of the Alphas converged on one another in an unnaturally affectionate display for such a public place.

Francis was the first one to hug Gilbert. The Prussian and French Alphas sobbed into one another's shoulders. It was a rare moment for Gilbert, perhaps not so uncommon for Francis, but all the same. Francis's longer blond hair pressed against Gilbert's forehead. Gilbert's cheek was squished into Francis's neck, though he was taller than the French Alpha by a couple of inches. Both were trembling against one another, and holding each other so tight that it was nearly impossible for either to breathe. When they finally split apart, Francis kissed Gilbert. "The last time, mon ami," he said gently, scrubbing one or two tears from Gil's cheeks.

It was Antonio's turn then. Gilbert and he had been through some rocky points together, but they were just as close physically and mentally as Gil was to Francis. A soft smile was shared between them before Antonio tugged Gilbert into a hug. He smelled of the familiar spices and flour, with an underlay of soap. Antonio's tanned skin contrasted nicely with Gilbert's paler color, and Gil's white hair mingled with Antonio's in a blend that resembled the feathers of a bald eagle. Both were crying, albeit not as dramatically as Gilbert and Francis had been. Antonio loved dramatics, true, but he wasn't such a fan of tears in front of other's eyes. Antonio was solid beneath Gilbert's hands, his physique sewn by muscle and bone, cultivated by years of grueling physical education. They were all exceptionally fit, not really having any other option. It was either be fit or fail. "Do not cry, Gilbert," murmured Antonio in the other's ear, "you're Francisco's padrino. We'll stay in touch."

Gilbert managed a snuffly laugh before they too separated, also with a kiss.

No one noticed the unnatural way that these Alphas parted, except for Eliza. But she didn't mind; she'd known that Gilbert was a little more than friends with the three. You don't get that close with someone without having done a little more than the regular friendship requirements.

Gilbert was still crying when Eliza reached his side. She watched him through gentle eyes before standing on her tiptoes to press a reassuring kiss to his forehead and lips. "Gil, why don't you go out with them." She suggested, pulling away and seeing the rising protest in his eyes. "Go on, I'll be alright. You can even call my father to come and get me. I want some alone time, and you need to spend a couple more hours with your best friends."

Indecision was still hanging in Gil's vermilion eyes, but she left him no room for debate. "Go, or I won't let you in my room tonight," she smiled at the spark of challenge that reanimated the old Gilbert. She missed that one sometimes, how cocky and arrogant, and absolutely infuriating he had been. That Gilbert had disappeared as he'd been thrown out of his family, but she was steadily seeing more glimpses of the Gil she had fallen in love with, the one who had confidence to rival thousands of legions of Romans.

Gilbert still insisted on spending the rest of the time that school was in session with her. He shared jokes with her about his classes, and she in turn gave her own. His eyes would occasionally rake down her figure, as if checking on her physical state, like she had somehow been injured in the time they'd been together. His hands would move of their own accord, fingers stretching along her stomach or running down her neck to circle her mark, or tracing the features that made up her face, running through her hair. Everytime he touched her, she shivered and leaned into the contact. As the day ticked down, she began to push him towards his friends, insisting that the reluctant Alpha go and spend quality time with the two boys that he had known the majority of his life. Eventually, he caved.

She watched as Gil tackled his friends, the sniffling, but deeply romantic boy rapidly evolving into an enthusiastic teenager again. He didn't take much convincing sometimes, not that Eliza minded. She wanted some time to spend with her mother and father before she was taken an ocean away from them. Perhaps she should have counted her lucky stars that Alfher had decided not to turn her and her family in for the sword-fighting thing, but she didn't. She hated that man, his guts and his traditions, and everything he stood for.

Turning on her heel, she began to walk towards the front of the school, sending a quick text to her mother before being absorbed into a conversation between a supremely blonde-haired Beta named Natalia and the Norwegian Omega, Lukas.

As she walked through the hallways for the last time, the bell rang, heralding an end to one extremely tumultuous high school career.

She fell asleep that night resting half-on top of Gilbert, lulled into slumber by the steady beating of his heart and the warm presence of his body and smell.

She was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end. It was a wonderful journey with you all, thank you for spending your time reading this. :)


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